Knights of Redemption
by Soser
Summary: This is not the usual retelling of the KOTOR game you're used to read. What would have happened if Revan and Bastila weren't the only ones to survive Malak's treachery two years and a half ago? LSF Revan, OMC.
1. Chapter 1

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Author's note: First fic ever. It's based on the game Knights of the old Republic, with a light side female character and a male OC. Remember: 

"speaking"

_thinking_

"_speaking in alien languages"_

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The Endar Spire, a Republic flagship destined to Dantooine, was on it's hyperspace route while a lone man on his early twenties was reading a _How to be nice_ guide on his datapad. His face became a slight smirk as he kept reading the lines in front of him. 

_So, instead of "what the hell you want, asshole?", "how can I help you?"; instead of "bitch", "miss"… Well, it's not that difficult: it only kills the fun and is completely different from my personality. Still… She said that sometimes being nice is more effective than being the best. Maybe I should…_ His thoughts where cut by a sudden wobble, red lights were now on the ceiling of his room and an alarm sounded all the Spire through.

"We are under attack! The Sith have intercepted our route. Assault transports incoming, all arms to the bridge!" It was Carth Onasi, the commander of the ship; speaking via the P.A. of the ship.

"Darn! I'm supposed to protect…"

"Blaze, do you read me? This is Bastila. Respond, please." _Bastila? Why is she calling me? There is no need. I have sworn to protect her, though she said something about Jedi don't having bodyguards… Why is she?_

"This is Blaze. Bastila, do as you please; but don't take risks. I'll be right there in a minute. The other Jedi might be able to _help_ you until then, won't they?" Bastila didn't like the sound of being _protected_, so he had learned it's euphemistic synonym the first: being _helped_.

"No, Blaze, thanks but its not about that: you remember the new Ensign, don't you?" Now _that_ was a bad thing to remember: he definitely didn't like her. He didn't trust her: she hadn't done anything to be trusted about, had she?

"You mean R, I mean, Wine Vin-Kari?"

"Yes, of course I mean her! You have to make sure she survives the attack. Send someone to pick her up and say it was my orders; but, please, don't mistake her name again."

"No! I mean, no! Bastila, are you mad? you are the one who must survive, not… Anyone else. I've sworn to _help_ you, not her."

"Excuse me? I thought you would do me a favor and forget your thoughts against her. Maybe I should ask one of the Jedi who are here _protecting_ me?"

"No! Ok. Ok, you win. I just hope you know what you are doing. May the…" _How was it? Focus? No. Fog? No. Damn! Bastila and the other Jedi are always talking about it. Food? Nah, I don't figure them always thinking about their stomach. Oh yeah! I've got it!_ "May the **_Force_** be with you." At this point, he thought he had heard a low laugh coming from his comm.

"May the Force be with you too." Bastila-Shan shut down the transmission and the man began working on the control panel on the further end of his room. Different security cameras were displaying on the screen; changing at high speed so he could find his target, the sooner, the better.

"There she is! Sleeping… Well, let us activate her shift alarm." The woman on the bed sat up at light speed and hit her head with the low ceiling of her bunk (there was another bed above hers). She, then, fell to the bed again, obviously out of game.

"Uh oh… This one would have been funny in any other time, I suppose. Well if you ask me, she deserved it: for lazy sleeping. Let's find someone to get her up…" He displayed a map of vital signs on the screen and centered it on the nearest Republic of her room: Ensign Ulgo.

_Well, at least this one even shares the room with her. I just hope telling him that these are Bastila's orders is enough to make him listen. Maybe I should try to be nice._ Blaze powered on his datapad and re-read the last entry that had made he stop to think properly:

_If you want someone to do something for you, do something for him/her. This is called "owing a favor" and it's value depends on the important it is for the receiver._

And… What the hell! He sure knew what was the most important for a soldier in a battle: weapons, med packs, armor… It was all nearly unnecessary if someone told you what to do step by step and led you to the weakest enemies and the most convenient paths.

In the bunk under his own, Ensign Ulgo saw a young woman rubbing her head.

"Hey you! Ensign Vin-Kari. Wake up! We need to go," he yelled at the woman.

The woman rubbed her auburn eyes again and focused on Trask. Her shoulder-length black hair was matted over her face. "What? Who… Who are you?"

"I'm your bunkmate, Ensign Trask Ulgo. We have opposite shifts, which is why we haven't met yet. Come on! The Endar Spire is under attack."

The woman began to slid out of bed but stopped frozen and covered herself with her sheets again.

"What are you doing? I said we are under attack! Come on, Ensign, get up." Ensign Ulgo was growing impatient at the apparently laziness of the woman in front of him, _how could anyone sleep in a time like that?_

"I'm trying, you pervert! But, if you really didn't notice by yourself, I'm naked here! Could you please have the decorum to turn away while I get dressed?" It wasn't a question, and Trask knew she was getting angry. Well, it was an unexpected yell, but she was right, so he did as asked and Ensign Vin-Kari slid on her garments. She took a vibroblade, tested it on the air and strapped a Republic standard blaster to her right thigh. "Ok, I'm ready. Where are we going?"

"Commander Onasi has given the order of all arms to the bridge, that's where we are going. The strange of it was that I was given the order to come and get you there instead of letting you go on your own. Ok, so you were top of your class and have had the advanced tactical training, didn't you? I don't know, but guess I shouldn't question the Jedi."

"The Jedi? They want me for something?"

Trask opened the door to the corridor. "It seems so. The mercenary protecting Bastila is the one who transmitted my orders directly from Bastila herself. Maybe you have some of that Force stuff?"

Sparks flew from the overhead throughout the corridor as an astromechanic droid worked on an electrical panel. The futility of its efforts was evident as Trask and Ensign Vin-Kari ran past.

As they pressed against the further door, Ensign Vin-Kari whispered, "Wait a second. Who are Commander Onasi, Bastila and this merc you are talking about?"

"What! Did you hit your head or something? Commander Onasi's the commander of the ship, not to mention a hero of the Mandalorian Wars. He's got more combat experience than the whole crew of the Spire. About Bastila, she is the Jedi in charge of this mission. It was her battle meditation that allowed us to even stand against the Sith's numerical superiority and her strike team took down Darth Revan a couple of months ago. I thought that would turn the tide, but Revan's apprentice, Malak, only picked up where Revan left off."

Ensign Vin-Kari felt almost stupid at not knowing such things, but Trask hadn't satisfied her curiosity yet. "And the merc? Maybe it's because I've just waken up, but I think Jedi don't usually hire mercenaries to protect them, do they?".

"Well, finally one good question. I don't know anything more about him: he seems to have been hired to protect Bastila, but I've never met him: he gave my orders via communicator and advised me for the quickest way to get to the room without facing any Sith, though. Shall we continue?"

The woman nodded, then brushed her hair back and scratched her head. Things seemed foggy. She could not remember how she got aboard the Spire. A flash of memory tore through her mind.

_The Republic Marine Academy on Coruscant? Yes, I just graduated. My parents were worried for me, but so proud. I was the top of my class and the best duelist in single sword style. Also one of the best in the dual swords one. My name? my name is Wine Vin-Kari and I'm from Deralia. I got aboard as a last hour reinforcement just after graduation._

Trask entered a code into the door and it split open with a hiss. Blaster fire could be heard in the corridor. Wine peeked around the door frame to see a firefight between Republic Marines and Sith Troopers. It was obvious who was going to win: the Republics were at a loss, firing with the few blasters they had left and covering themselves as they could. The Sith weren't by far in this bad condition: their silver armors reflected some of the blows, they were firing with rifles instead of normal blasters and they had better cover. A Sith grenade finished the remaining Republics of the fight and three silver armored men emerged from their covers brandishing longswords. They made sure their enemies were really dead.

Trask grunted. "Their assault transports must have landed. We'll need to get past them to get to the Bridge. It seems their armors are good reflecting blaster shots, so I recommend you to use that sword of yours. You know how to do that, don't you?"

Wine swung her vibrosword with her right hand, placed it above her head pointing to the enemy, the left hand extended. She balanced her weight on her right foot and put her left one forward in a most impressive stance that revealed the extent of her training. "Just look and learn. Oh, by the way, take this and cover me while you are at it, will you?" She passed him her blaster and Trask took it while raising an eyebrow. "It seems you do know how to handle a sword. Shall we start? For the Republic!"

Wine led the way into the corridor as Trask took cover in a flank that left him full view of the combat zone. Walking in low, semi crouch, but quickly Wine saw a target come into view. Her breath quickened and her heart raced: this was for real, her first combat. No mercy would come from her enemy if she lost. _Well, Wine, now calm down and remember your training, feel yourself comfortable with the sword, get in stance and always dodge the first blow_. She raised the sword again and got in her favorite fighting stance. The Sith trooper let out a yell and raced to her, sword up. Two more troopers followed him; but one of them was quickly blasted by Trask.

When both remaining melee troopers reached her, Wine's adrenaline was overwhelming her veins and, when the first Sith blow passed by her head without even cutting a single hair, she experienced something very strange: everything around her became slow and tedious, like seeing a film in slow motion. She, on the other hand, could move perfectly well and focused even better than she remembered doing in any fencing lesson.

One swing of her sword and she cut the hand off the first trooper and, while it was falling, she took the sword from the limp hand and jumped to the left dodging the second Sith, who impaled his longsword into his comrade. Then, she made a not-too-superficial-not-too-deep cut on the back of the second Sith's left knee and kicked it to make him kneel down in pain. Afterwards, she simply knocked him out with the handle of her right sword.

Wine's mind froze for a millisecond when she saw the Sith that she hadn't knock out. _Someone's dead because of me…_

Now alerted to the presence of new defenders, the remaining two Sith in the corridor threw a fragmentation grenade and moved for cover. For Wine, there would be time to reflect later: she picked the grenade and, again in slow motion vision, she threw it back to its owners. The cries of wounded Sith filled the corridor.

"Wow! how did you do that?" Trask was right behind her, checking out the Sith.

"Do what?"

"Look, sister, I've never seen anyone move so fast or cut so accurate: look at this!" Wine saw her bunkmate take the hand she had cut and get closer to her so she could see well. "A perfect transversal cut, 90 degrees, completely smooth. How?"

"Well… I don't know. Maybe I was just lucky?"

"And what about the speed?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know." Trask eyed her suspiciously. She definitely didn't like it. "Shall we go?" This seemed to, somehow, wake up Trask.

"Yes… Yes, of course. Never mind, let's go."

Trask opened the next door and they were greeted by the sight of a man and a woman locked in mortal combat with lightsabers.

"Stay back," urged Trask, "We'll just get in the way. That woman was with Bastila Shan, she is a Jedi as well."

The two combatants moved with an unearthly grace, raining blows upon each other. The air crackled and hummed with the dance of their lightsabers. The man was encased in silver armor except for his bald head. His weapon was a red beam of light that flickered with deadly energy. The woman was attired in orange robes that flowed with her every move. Strangely, Wine saw by the corner of her eye that the man on her right was, sort of, comparing the two duelists with her.

"You know? Maybe it's me, but I think you were moving quicker than them." Trask sounded serious, but it couldn't be: the simple thought made Wine laugh, a little.

"Me, faster than a Jedi? Sure. What'll you say next, that I'm stronger than a rancor?"

"Hey! No need getting it that way, I was only saying what I had seen!" By his reaction, Trask must had said it very seriously.

The Dark Jedi lifted his lightsaber in a completely offensive stance. Wine disapproved it mentally: that was, for sure, a comfortable position to attack; but it left the fighter completely defenseless, giving the opponent a good chance to counter attack(luckily for both of them, they were on the female Jedi's side).

"Ok, sorry. But I think it's you: I can't even see well all their moves."

As Wine spoke, the female Jedi crouched and made a quick horizontal swing with her blade, which killed her opponent before he touched the floor. However, before she could even power off her lightsaber, the corridor exploded around her, tearing them both to pieces. Trask rushed out to help, but it was too late. He shook his head sadly. "Damn! We could've used her help. Well, then, let's see.." Trask glanced around, as if trying to orientate. Wine looked as well, not able to understand why he was hesitating. "Well, I've got two news: one good, and the other bad."

"The good one first."

"I know this corridor: that door leads directly to the bridge. However, the explosion jammed it."

"I wouldn't call that a good new."

"It's better than the other: I don't know any other route."

"What? And can't we, you know, repair the door? Or blow it down?"

"Only an authorized officer can reset the controls, and the door is made of a very thick layer of durasteel: the required explosion to blow it down would also destroy all the corridor and we couldn't get through it. I'm no officer, what about you?" It was obviously rhetorical: he knew she was only a just graduated Ensign.

After having made sure by his control panel that Bastila and most of her fellow Jedi were safe and outside of the ship, the black-haired man stood up and readied himself: he picked up his brown jacket and put his two data pads in it (he used one to store all the guides, maps and general information and the other to write down his own memories). Then, he entered the code on the lock of his chest and retrieved his most precious possession: a hand-sized medallion with a long durasteel chain in one extreme that allowed it to be worn around the neck.

Once he had put on both jacket and, over it, the medallion; it got strapped to his chest like if it was part of the jacket and it's central crystal shined a bit in gray tones. He kept watching it for a second. _Shit! It's always blue on Bastila and the other Jedi… Well, at least it's not red like the last time I'd put it on… _It was, indeed, a very rare crystal that shined in different colors depending of the side of the Force it's carrier had affinity for at the moment. It was very sensible and changed even by short-time emotions. A present from Bastila. She said that this way he'd be able to control himself.

He ran down passed the corridor. Left, right, left again. Then stopped and hid himself in the shadows of a corner. He had to get to the east escape pods before the Sith blew the Spire… When the troopers passed by, he continued. _If Bastila had only left me have a blade… Well, better thought, when she said "no" we were on allied territory and I was more than eager than to chop someone's head. I guess it's a different matter right now._

While he was thinking about if he should get a weapon from somewhere or not, he ran into a four-Sith squadron that was patrolling the place as if it was theirs. When the silver armored men saw him, without weapons, some laughed while all of them prepared for melee combat. He smiled and stood still, in the middle of the corridor, watching them as they moved in low motion to attack him. He could hear one of the troopers joking with another: "This will be fun. That fool hasn't even a weapon on him." _Yeah, it'll be fun… For me._

The medallion on his chest changed slightly into red as he dodged the futile attempts of attack of his foes. When one of them tried to impale him, he simply jumped and landed on his sword. Then, Blaze quickly kicked him strong in the face, breaking helmet, nose and skull.

When the three remaining Sith saw that, they backed off a second, as if trying to explain themselves what had just happened. Never one to take down an opportunity, Blaze picked the blade from the corpse at his feet and, while still crouched, rolled backwards and swung the sword. A silver helmet tainted with blood fell to the ground, followed by the body.

The young but experienced death combatant remembered then what one of those Jedi had said about letting the enemy surrender. That Jedi had said it was the right thing to do. Blaze stood up and placed himself so he could perfectly see both still living opponents. In the corner of his eye, the medallion was as red as the first time. He smiled again and stood still, in the middle of the corridor again, the vibroblade was in his right hand, while the extreme of it rested on the floor. He watched as they moved a bit backwards, obviously remembering the stance. "Run." Both troopers dropped their weapons to the ground and ran down the corridor; the medallion was gray, maybe a glimpse of blue would have been able to be seen if he watched it carefully.

Blaze picked up the weapons and ran again towards the east escape pods section; only stopping to kill some more enemies that were not wise enough to quit when they saw him. When he arrived there and saw that there was only one escape pod, he remembered Bastila's petition about the Ensign. He turned around, activated a console nearby and scanned for her life signal. _What? they haven't even reached the bridge yet? Well… Here it is, there is one more escape pod at the west section of the ship, through the bridge. One vital signal on a console nearby, like me… Carth Onasi, well he'll wait, I suppose. Message sent: he'll wait. Now, what are the two Ensigns doing in front of the fucking bridge? Are they scared of the Sith in it, or what?_

They decided to improvise a stronghold in front of the bridge: if they couldn't protect it from inside, they could still do it from the outside. Trask was all the while grunting and grumbling something about his orders. As she used one med pack to heal her leg, wounded in one of the multiple fights they had been involved into while they were mounting guard, she heard Trask's personal comm beep intermittently and a male voice emerged from it.

"Ensign Trask Ulgo, this is Blaze, why aren't you following you orders?" _Wine was taken aback by this question. Blaze? Is Trask following a mercenary's orders? Oh yeah, I remember now, the orders are from Bastila, not the merc._

"What do you expect me to do? The door is sealed and only an authorized officer can reset it." It was evident to her that her comrade was very stressed.

"Is Commander Onasi high-leveled enough to open it via console?"

"Well, of course he is! He's the commander of the Spire, after all."

"Pack your equipment and get ready. I've sent him a message and he's working on it. Bastila's already out of the ship, destination: the nearby planet. Taris, I think it's called. Commander'll wait for you with a three person escape pod ready on the west section. You should go through the bridge to reach there."

"And what about the Sith? There're surely lots of them in there."

"Don't worry, I've sent them a more… consistent message. It definitely has my signature on it. I'm boarding my escape pod now. Ensign Vin-Kari has a new entry on her datapad: it's a detailed map with the two most direct routes." Just then, a beep sounded on Wine's pocket. She extracted her datapad from it: it was true. "May the Force be with you."

Wine turned to Trask. "May the Force be with you?"

"I suppose being with the Jedi influences people."

After they had packed, they approached the bridge door. Green light: it was functional again.

"You should use your melee weapons, the bridge is small and it's suicide to use ranged weapons in close quarters," said Trask readying his blasters. "I'm better with blasters, however. Is it ok with you if I cover you from behind?"

"Didn't the merc say he had already taken care for the bridge?"

"It's better to expect the unexpected, even more so with the Sith."

"Ok. But keep an eye on your blade, just in case." Wine took her two vibroblades off her belt and opened the door. Trask threw a flash grenade into the bridge and they covered without even looking in. When the grenade exploded and they didn't hear a single noise, though, they didn't know what to do. Trask motioned Wine to wait and stay in cover while he threw another grenade, this one was fragmentary. Explosion. Deathly silence. Wine couldn't wait more and peeked from the security of her cover. The single vision of the bridge on it's actual state made her dizzy. She returned to her previous position and wanted to vomit. Trask was also growing impatient and did as she had done. His face became totally pale and he didn't bother to return to cover. "Holy shit…"

Wine, now prepared for what was going to see, entered the door with Trask. The computers and lights were off, but it wasn't dark: fire everywhere at sight prevented the room to be in darkness. Burned meat and smoke stink filled her nostrils as she went forward. "Really, I think no signature would be better to the name Blaze than this one. But… Was it necessary? So many deaths…"

"Listen, I know you don't say it with bad intentions, but it's a war and it is very simple: you kill them, or they kill you. By doing this, He has opened us a path. Let's go."

"Okay…" Obviously, Trask saw that she wasn't totally centered, so he decided to make a smart remark to cheer her up a little.

"So… What is your signature? Do you get drunk? Or you knock out your enemies with a wine bottle?"

"Hey! That's not funny!" She stopped talking for a second, mentally viewing the scene of her 'possible signatures' proposed by Trask and a small laughter escaped her lips. "Well… Ok. Maybe a little. But, still, I don't do such things." Following the joke, she drew her tongue at him and continued by another door that, if Blaze's map was correct, leaded to the shortest route to their escape pod.

They both entered the next room and thanked the Force or whatever was in charge of cosmos that let them breathe fresh air again. Trask appeared to have heard some sound.

"There's something behind here," he said indicating the door across the hall. He ran to the door, prepared his vibroblade and opened it.

As sparks flew from the ceiling, a man stepped forward, clad all in black. His head was bald save a black goatee and his eyes radiated fierce hatred. He twirled his red double-blade lightsaber with the practiced hand of a master. The Dark Jedi watched first Trask and then, Wine. "Do my eyes betray me? You are alive yet? My master will like to see the corpses I'll bring to him."

Wine's eyes grew large. "This is the end", she whispered. Strangely, she didn't see anything in slow motion like she had before when every battle started. Was the Dark Jedi neutralizing her ability? Could he also fight like she had done before? How where they going to survive to that kind of handicap?

Trask grit his teeth. "Damn, another Dark Jedi. Go! I'll try to hold him off."

"What? He'll kill you!"

Trask quickly grasped his backpack and threw it to her. "I have my orders." He shoved her back and rushed to the Dark Jedi. A quick blow of his blade to the terminal that controlled the door sent it slamming down behind him, jammed.

Wine didn't know what to do. "Trask! Wha…I…"

Just then, her comm beeped an a different voice came from it "Ensign, this is Commander Onasi. I can't wait much longer. You need to hurry. Get to the escape pods."

Not wanting to leave Trask behind, Wine tried to open the door with all she could think of until she heard a terrifying scream beyond. The scream was cut short. Wine's eyes reddened and grew wet in a held cry and sweat beaded at her face. _I have failed to him. Trask's dead. What will I do? What have I done?_ With a hiss, the red blade of a lightsaber pierced the metal door, the Dark Jedi now wanted to kill her. She would remember his face forever, now he was her worst nightmare personified. Wine fell back with a yell as the lightsaber slowly cut downward through the metal. As the fear ran through her veins, Wine leapt up and rush to and adjacent door in slow motion. As it opened, she leapt out of the room and jammed it shut. She could feel the Dark Jedi finishing with the first door and, panicked, she fled.

"Ensign, I have you on my monitor. There is a Sith squad up ahead. If you can get to it, there is a combat droid you can reactivate. You can also slice into a console and use the Spire's security systems against them. Unfortunately, my link to that section has been jammed. You must hurry," urged Onasi over the wrist communicator.

Still in slow motion from the adrenaline running through her veins, Wine ran down the corridor and opened the next door. Two Sith turned abruptly and raised their weapons, but Wine had already chopped the head off of one of them. She turned to the other one, across a two meter-long desk and threw her left blade. The Sith fell to the floor with the tip of the vibroblade thrust in his throat. She was too panicked to pick up her sword again, and even to think about using non-deadly techniques. All she could think about was the fear of the man in black armor who was following her and how she wanted to escape from him. Somehow, something about him had made her spine chill even from the first time she saw him. She jammed the door behind her and looked around to where that terminal should be.

_There! The terminal!_

Carth Onasi was watching in disbelief how fast the female Ensign's vital signal was approaching his own on his monitor. Suddenly, the door opened and he saw a tall woman, with shoulder-length black hair, enter the room and freeze at his sight. She was sweating, some scratches were visible on her armor, and she had a thick layer of dust and blood covering some parts of her body. Her face was pale and horrified. It seemed as if she had been fleeing from a ghost

Carth decided to talk first: at this point it seemed as if she didn't recognize very much the difference between enemy and ally. "You made it just in time…"

She didn't stop to listen him: as the woman saw him hailing her instead of attacking, he stopped to be of interest and she started to look desperately for a way to close the door behind her. "How did you close it!"

That wasn't expected by Carth."What?" _This_ made the woman turn to him. He saw desperation in her face. Carth decided that it was best to help her close that door, if that made her calm down. "Eehh… Well, yes, that terminal over there closes it." He saw her run to the terminal and getting to work in it. "And… If you want, you can also lock it from there. Only an authorized officer will be able to unlock it. What's happening?"

When the door had been sealed, the woman sat down on the floor panting, next to the console, exhausted. "Dark…_(pant), (pant)_…. Jedi…. killed… Trask…" He didn't recognize the name; but, at least, he now could understand what had happened to that woman. He decided to keep pleasant to her for now: she was terrified and any brusque action could result in more panic from her. He had seen that happen with many soldiers after some specially stressful missions.

He approached her, crouched besides her and put a hand on her shoulder. When they made eye contact, he saw it in her eyes: she was really in shock. He made his move:"Come on, there's the escape pod, he won't be able to follow us there."

He saw her face recover a bit her normal color and he could tell he had spoken the correct words. Though she was still a bit reluctant to make any move, she got up with his help.

"Okay…" She seemed absent. Though Carth didn't know what was her voice usually like; damn it, if he didn't even know who she was!

The Spire's critical core state alarm sounded as they got close to the escape pod and he unceremoniously flung her into it. He leapt in behind her and punched the separation button. The hatch sealed and the pod was blasted into space.

Onasi squirmed in behind the woman with his body up against hers. "Sorry, these pods are pretty small. Trask's place has been occupied by our equipment."

"Commander Onasi, I presume?" She was, for sure, a lot more relaxed now that she was away from her fear source.

"That's correct. Damn these Sith, how did they find us? The Spire's destination was supposed to be a secret." Carth fumed. He then started to talk about something, but he stopped when he saw his companion pass out. He figured she was too tired to continue. _Multiple Sith squads, a full guarded bridge… And a Dark Jedi? How did she survive through that? Who is she, anyways?_

He, then, noticed her personal datapad in her pocket. He took it and started reading her personal file while the large city-world, Taris, grew nearer to their pod.


	2. Chapter 2

He sat down on a table to the right of the entrance, pulled out of his jacket his comm and a screwdriver and started repairing the device. When the waitress came, he only asked for some water and kept working.

A couple of minutes later, some thugs came to him. Their leader was from some species he had never seen before. He kept watching this alien for a moment, taking mental note of it's features, and continued trying to repair the gadget between his hands.

"Hey guys! I think this one's not from here: he has just sat down on our table."

"Excuse me?"

"This is a Black Vulkar table, our table, you have sat down on it."

Blaze, who hadn't stopped working on his communicator, seemed unaffected by the Vulkar's commentary. His nice manners were vanishing as quickly as he was growing tired of those thugs. "So?"

"So? So! You have a death wish or something?"

The alien to the left of the leader interfered on the conversation: "Hey, Brulk, I think this human deserves a lesson."

Hearing his partner the third thug examined the man in front of him. "Yeah, he thinks being hurt and all means we are going to hold back."

The mercenary now wanted both to laugh and kill: those guys were really close to earn a good bone breaking. "I don't expect you to do so. Do a favor to yourselves and let me be."

The strange one took Blaze's comm from his hands to catch his attention. "I'm Brulk, from the Black Vulkars. You are going to show me respect."

The alien had accomplished his wishes of being the center of the man's attention… In the wrong way: The injured merc rose from his chair, he was tall enough to surpass the alien's height; and his glare was convinced, intimidating… And deathly. "I'm Blaze and I show respect to no one; except if I wish to. You'll bring my communicator back to me. Alive… Or dead."

Apparently, the Vulkar leader had been too slow to return to Blaze his property, because the mercenary settled that the decision had been taken: he would retrieve it from the thug's corpse. He thrust the screwdriver into his target's head and took both the improvised weapon and the wrist comm from the death Vulkar before he fell to the ground. Then, he sat down again, returning to his work. "Run." The other two Vulkars didn't hesitate like their ex-leader: they followed Blaze's instruction at light speed and fled from the cantina.

He hadn't even been able to find out what was the problem with his dysfunctional gadget when he felt someone tapping his left shoulder slightly. Pain crossed his brain like a shock wave due to his injuries. He though twice before killing the cause of his pain and decided to be nice again: he could still use some help. "How can I help you…" He turned around to see a blue teenager female Twi'lek. She seemed like what they called themselves 'street smarts', just the type of person to ask for what he needed. _Be nice: not 'bitch',_"Miss?"

"Hey, I saw you taking care of those Vulkars, how did you do that?"

_Be cool: answer questions with questions, make her be interested. If she wants something, she'll have to give info._"How did I do what?"

"Move so fast."

"I don't know, I suppose I'm fast."_Oh, oh, this can end the conversation, stupid! Say something… Presentations, of course. Presentations are made to initiate a conversation, not to finish it._"The name's Blaze,"he said, extending a hand for her to shake."What about you?"

With a smile on her face, the young blue Twi'lek shook his hand while she was sitting down on a chair opposite from his own, so they could talk face to face."Mission, Mission Vao. Nice to meet you."_Bingo! I love you, 'How to be nice'._"Say, I don't recognize you, and I know everyone in the Lower city. Are you from the Upper One?"

_Lower City and Upper City, I suppose the lower you go, the worse the situation is. She seems nice, doesn't feel like the Vulkars… Maybe she's opposite to them, like Bastila is to the Dark Jedis. I think I can trust her enough… It's not like I'll be able to continue without some help, anyway. Ok, time to show the first card of the hand…_"I was on the Endar Spire. My escape pod crashed nearby."

"The Endar Spire… You mean, the Republic ship that exploded yesterday?"

_Wow! A whole day? Well, she's already started to give information. Now, the comm._"Yeah, that one." He showed her his broken communicator."I was trying to repair this so I could find out if there are more survivors, but I'm not good enough. Guess I'll have to find a mechanic to do it for me." He searched in the corpse's pockets and found some credits. "You know anyone who would repair it for 100 credits?"

Mission didn't hesitate to respond. "Me."

At first, Blaze thought that the girl in front of him was joking."You?" He instantly regretted his words: the teenager could take this the wrong way and think that he underestimated her by her age or species.

She had: her face turned to a scold."Yeah, me. What's wrong?" He needed to correct himself. _How about daring her to do it? She seems the never-lose-a-dare type. This could work to my advantage._

"Well… Nothing, really. I just think that this is a nearly irreparable case. Only a pro could do it." He looked her straight to the eyes."Do you thing you can do this?"

As expected, her humor changed again, she was more interested on the gadget in his hands. She took it and, carefully, studied it. When she finished, she returned it to him."Is it a dare?"

"You can call it that way, if you want."

"What's on stake?"

"It depends on what do you want."

"Mmmm… How about your screwdriver versus some computer spikes?"

"My screwdriver and the 100 credits, or screwdriver alone?"

Mission seemed to think about the chances of having both credits and tool; but, to Blaze's contentment, she wasn't greedy. "Only the screwdriver. Deal?"

"Deal." The man handed her his communicator and the tool he had been using and the Twi'lek started to work almost instantly; but a big, furry, growling alien stopped her. _A Wookiee… I saw one once, but it was a long time ago. Hope he'll be a friend of hers._

The Wookiee started to talk in his mother language to Mission. He seemed worried for her."_Mission! What are you doing? He's human…"_ The furry alien took a look on Blaze's clothes and seemed more anxious, even a bit angry. "_And he's definitely no Beck."_

"Oh, come on, Big Z. He's a good guy. We've made a stake and I'm going to win." This didn't seem to calm down Mission's friend.

"_You know what are the humans like, Mission. He'll enslave you if you give him the chance."_ In Blaze's mind, this was his cue to be nice to the Wookiee. Fortunately, he had known one of this species before and knew what was their weak point; or, at least, he thought.

"My name's Blaze, nice to meet you, Big Z. Your friend Mission has kindly offered herself to help me repairing my communicator." Big Z didn't say a thing. Instead, he just stared at the filthy human who was sitting down at the table, near a Vulkar's corpse. The human was surely an adult, but he didn't recognize well human ages. He was very injured: part of his torso and back was covered with many painful scratches and his left leg was resting on an odd angle (surely broken); his left arm had the most injuries, tough, it seemed nearly impossible to him that the human could actually be able to move it faster than a tortoise.

Blaze noticed that the Wook was measuring him and decided to make his next move. "For both of us, it's a win-win situation: if she succeeds, she'll have my screwdriver and I'll have what I need: my comm repaired. If she fails, she'll lose only the quantity of computer spikes she chooses and I suppose she'll be so kind of telling me about someone who can do it. Of course, there'll be some credits for the information."Meanwhile he was talking, he waved his right hand in front of the Wookiee, as he had seen Bastila, Jedi and Dark Jedi do."Both of us win, no one loses." His words seemed to, somehow calm the alien down more than usual. But the furry one was too stubborn to let it be: he didn't like humans in general and, though this one didn't seem a threat, he didn't need to like him.

"Mission, let's go: I'm hungry."

"Oooh no! Big Z, I'm not going anywhere. Can't you think about something besides your stomach for more than five minutes? You've just eaten!" Blaze took mental note of that: that Wookiee loved eating! That was great. He now knew how to finish this useless arguing.

"What are you fancy eating?" Mission was now alert: surely, no one had ever treated them to eat.

"What did you say?"

"I've got these 100 credits from this guy." Blaze pointed with his head to the dead Vulkar that was now being carried away by a cleansing droid."He doesn't need them anymore and I need you to repair my communicator, if you can. If Big Z wants to eat, then he'll eat: it's my treat." Both Mission and Z exchanged stunned faces. _Is it so rare on this planet to see someone being nice?_

"I don't buy it, what's on your head?"_Ok, Blaze, this girl is one heck of a pain in the ass. But it means she's smart enough to be a good ally. Show another card._

He now talked a bit lower as not to be heard by others and leaned forward to them. Both friends did the same: they wanted to know what was happening."Listen: as I said before, I'm from the Republic ship that exploded yesterday while it was being attacked on Taris' orbit. This communicator is the only thing that can help me to contact with other survivors and it's most imperative for me to do so. Don't ask me to tell the name: it's been forbidden to me by now, but I have sworn to protect someone's life and I don't even know if she's still alive."

Now was the Wookiee who was being the most interested in the stranger. "_Why did you swear that?"_

"She saved me. I've been a war prisoner for nearly my entire life and she is the one who freed me. I suppose you can understand that not being able to return that kind of favor is very frustrating." That revelation made them both fall in silence; thinking.

"_Mission, I'm not hungry anymore; please, continue what you were doing. I don't know why, but this human seems honest."_

…….

Two hours later, Mission had finally opened the comm and had made some improvements on it's repairing, but she had still some work to do. She seemed to, somehow, enjoy the challenge before her, though.

Zaalbar, which was Big Z's actual name, had already eaten three bowls of salad (he hadn't been able to contain himself anymore and had eventually asked Blaze to buy him some food) and was now friendlier than before, filling up the man with some general information about Taris, including all about the Lower City gangs and where he could find free medical assistance. He had also told the merc how to access the Upper levels by the front door in his current state. "_I'm impressed: nearly no one bothers to learn Shirywook. Where did you learn it?"_

"Well, one of the Sith slaves had a cell next to mine. He was an old Wook. At first, it seemed difficult to me, but I was more than happy to have someone to talk between torture and torture, and he also seemed to enjoy hearing his mother language again." This words took aback Zaalbar.

_You can SPEAK Shirywook? No kidding! Only a Wookiee can speak it. Your throat's too tiny, human._

Some blood escaped Blaze's lips and he cleaned it with his right forearm. "Well, I can, but not in this state: Shirywook isn't easy and both my throat and my lungs are too weak for now. If you don't mind, I'll speak it later, someday, when I feel better."

"_Yes, as you say, even too enfeebled Wooks can't speak it well: they mix words and it takes a lot of attention to know what they are saying." _Sigh. "_But, as the elder you talked about, I'd like to hear it again… Even from an outsider's mouth."_

"You'll do, someday."

At that moment, Mission rose up from her chair and, with triumphal air, she handed Blaze his comm. "Done. It doesn't have battery, though, so you'll have to recharge it again."

"Where…" The girl cut him down.

"At Janice Nall's Droids and Parts Shop, of course. You simply tell her Mission sent you, and she'll let you recharge it nearly for free: of one credit per communicator." Blaze looked at his pocket: six credits left. He had enough. "Guess it's now mine." Mission waved the screwdriver in front of Blaze and made gesture of putting it in her pocket, but she stopped and looked back to Blaze when he spoke.

"Will it work?"

"Yes, for sure. Who do you think I am?" The Twi'lek expected this to be a real arguing: she had showed no proofs of the functionality of the communicator and it's external appearance didn't encourage to bet about it working; but the man simply smiled, put it in his pocket and got up.

"Well, then, thank you very much. Keep it: you've earned it. Goodbye, both of you." Before exiting the cantina, The mercenary bought a beer can (five credits spent) and put it in his pocket.

Carth must have read the datapad he found in her jacket a few hundred times already:

Name: Wine Vin-Kari. Homeworld: Deralia. Current age: 22. Blood type: A+. Clearance level: Ensign. Combat skills: elite sword-master, basic blaster and rifle training. Tactical training: advanced tactical training successfully passed. Alien languages understood: multiple (current number: unavailable). Number of missions failed: 0. Number of missions successfully done: 0. Number of missions initiated: 1. Current Mission: T.S. 

Standard Republic file - dry reading. It didn't have much else to say about the tall and beautiful woman who had spent the last two days drifting from unconsciousness to delirium, and back to unconsciousness. Carth left her datapad on the table and returned to attend her injuries.

She was now laying in one of the two beds of the apartment he had hired out by a ridiculous amount of credits. He was sitting at her side, wetting a handkerchief in cool water and washing her face. Now that the layer of blood was cleaned, he could see that she actually hadn't any scratch or bruise on her face. Her shoulder-length black hair contrasted slightly with her slightly tanned beautiful face, but Carth didn't waste much time admiring her beauty: there were, at least, three big bumps on her head. She surely had been hit there hard three times -one near her forehead and two on the back of her head;- the most recent of them, provably from the crash, had been bleeding until he applied a med pack on it. She surely had multiple cranial traumas, but Carth didn't know where to begin with, so he was now trying to wake her up with the handkerchief.

Whatever she was seeing behind her eyes, it must have been one hell of a nightmare: she wouldn't stop twitching and moving from side to side for more than five minutes running. Tired, he got up to re-read her datafile for umpteenth time when he heard the Ensign gasp and sit up all of a sudden. He turned to see panic in her still semi-awakened face. "He's Coming!" _The Dark Jedi that had chased her through half of the ship, I suppose._ He decided to remain still and quiet, so she could wake herself up of her nightmare.

She stared around bewildered. When she saw him, she looked like she didn't recognize the person in front of her. "Where… where am I? Who are you?"

"Easy, there," he said. "We're okay for the moment. "I'm Carth Onasi, ex-commander of the Endar Spire. I was with you in the escape pod. Do you remember?"

Her gaze went inward, probably trying to make sense of what happened. "Carth, the one on the communicator. Yes, I remember. You helped me when that Dark Jedi had killed Trask." She put her head in her hands. "But my head hurts when I try to remember before the battle, and everything I can recall seems foggy."

"Well, you've been slipping in and out of consciousness for a couple of days now, so I imagine you're pretty confused about things. We're safe, at least for the moment. We're in an abandoned apartment on Taris. You were banged up pretty bad when our escape pod crashed, but luckily I wasn't seriously hurt. She couldn't help but wonder herself how that had happened. She experimentally passed a hand over her head and found out she had, at least, three bumps. _The one on the forehead must be from that damned alarm shift…_ I was able to drag you away from our crash site in all the confusion, and I stumbled onto this abandoned apartment. By the time the Sith arrived on the scene we were long gone."

"I guess I owe you my life, sir. Thank you."

He seemed to get a bit angry. "Hey, I've never left anyone behind on a mission, and I'm not about to start." Carth silenced himself for a second so she could sink his words in her mind. He calmed down. "And… Call me Carth: no 'sir', no 'commander', ok? We need all but to let the Sith know that we are from the Republic."

"Ok, si… I mean, Carth." She saw her datapad on the table near Carth. She pointed it. "Did you read it?"

"Yes, I did: Wine Vin-Kari, expertise in sword fighting, advanced tactical training received and good linguist, also. That's pretty rare in a raw recruit, but it should come in handy while we're stranded here." He handed it to her and she put it in her pocket again.

"Well, Carth, I'll help as much as I can; what's the situation?"

"Taris is under Sith control. Their fleet is orbiting the planet, they've declared martial law and they've imposed a planet-wide quarantine. But I've been in worse spots." _He's trying to convince himself: if he's been in worse spots and has survived, he can also survive this one._ Predicting her next question, he kept talking. "The planet's one big city, and the deeper you go, the worse it gets. There've been reports of crashed escape pods in the Lower and Under City. One of them might be Bastila's; that's where I'll need the help. Going in there unprepared is suicide, and we're no good to her dead."

Wine rose and picked up the vibroblade. Taking it to the workbench, she pried open the vibration cell and started to make modifications to it. Carth watched her as she worked. She seemed to carry the sword like she was born with one in her hand. Surely, that was how she survived the Spire.

He must have been silent too long, because she turned to look at him. "I'm sorry. Continue, please."

"The Republic's not going to be able to help us - not with the Sith blockade. We're on our own there. Half the Sith fleet's probably looking for her. The good news is that it means a couple common soldiers like us might be able to move about undetected. The second bit of good news is that many of the citizens are armed normally. Apparently, Tarisian nobles still get into duels over petty insults, and we're still talking about the Outer Rim."

"Well, the sooner we start looking, the better. Let's go?" She finished her adjustments, standing up to give the blade an experimental swing. Satisfied, she put it back in it's sheath.

"Good idea. I just hope we do find her." He stared out the grimy window as if he hoped to see Bastila out on the streets below. "I've heard some grim things about Dark Jedi interrogation techniques. They say the Force can do terrible things to a mind. It can wipe away your memories and destroy your very identity."

"I'd sooner not find out if those rumors are true."

"I don't either," Carth admitted. "Alright, soldier, let's move out. We could start from the cantinas, but we should return here before one o'clock."

"Why's that"

"I've received a DCSM signal, there's another survivor who crashed in the Lower City. He said he'd come here and he estimated it would take him three hours to arrive."

"Three hours… One o'clock… That would be half an hour ago!"

"Yes, you missed the transmission by only twenty minutes."They both headed to the door and Carth was about to open it, but he heard her talking and decided to wait until she had finished.

"Carth…"

"Yeah?"

"What's DCSM?

"Oh, it means 'Dialing in Controlled Security Mode'. It uses a normal radio-frequency, but the speakers talk about random things and mix with their words some key ones that mean what they really want to communicate. Only officers or level-two clearance civilians above know how to decipher it and it's cod changes of every mission."

"So, it means he's either an officer or one of the Jedi, doesn't it?"

"For sure."

Blaze had finally arrived to and old apartment complex in a small street of the Upper City and was now limping through it's main corridor, using a durasteel pipe he had found before as a crutch, searching for the right door. _I should've gone to see doctor Zelka as Zaalbar had advised me, but this is more important. My wounds have already started to heal, I can feel it: the worst scratches in my thorax have closed and some of the burns don't hurt anymore. Now, gathering allies to search Bastila is the most important thing to do. That officer must be my only hope._

As he was limping and thinking, he stepped onto some damp floor and an elder voice called him from backwards. "Hey, you! Wa, wa, watch where you are stepping on! I, I, I've just cleaned that floor!"_Perfect! Now, the the cleanser's lecture! I'm tired of this. Maybe should I kick this asshole's ass?_

Blaze turned to see an old man dressed with poor, old robes. His hair was snow white and his face showed that the years of hardworking hadn't treated him well. He had a damp handkerchief in his right hand and a bucket full of water next to him. Blaze didn't know why but he remembered Bastila lecturing him about having to be nice, especially to elders. _Well, I suppose this old asshole's also an elder… Calm down and be nice, Blaze. He could still be of help._ He sighted and tried to take a deep breath, but he couldn't: all he could breathe was a quarter of the normal for him. _Darn! Must have something more serious than I thought in my lungs… Maybe internal hemorrhage? Must find that officer quickly; better ask the old man._ "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't see it."Blaze stepped, as he could, out of the wet floor.

The old man seemed to be in good mood: he didn't complain anymore about the young one."Ooh, I suppose it's nothing to worry about: I'm used to it, and you seem friendlier than most people around here. My name's Kadir, I'm the janitor here." Just then, the silver haired human realized about the many scars and how much blood was covering the other one. He could tell as well that the left leg had to be broken. And, by how the younger was moving, it seemed that the arm wasn't too well, either."Uh… Are you hurt? You should really go to see Doctor Zelka: he's a good man and he'll provably heal you for a very low prize."

"No, thanks. I'm here searching for someone. Do you know by chance where does the new human stay on this building?"

"The new human, you say? Oh, yes, you must be talking about the new couple. Yes, yes, they arrived a couple of days ago. They seem to be here stuck by the quarantine, as some other people. The woman is very nice and sympathetic; though she's been unconscious until a few hours ago, she's been very friendly to everyone since then."

_A couple of days? That's when the Spire was attacked! Must be the officer. _"Yep, they are my friends. Could you tell me where do they stay? I've got to meet them at one o'clock."

"At one o'clock, you say?" The janitor took a look on his watch. "But it's a quarter to one yet, you arrive early."

_A quarter to one? Good, the officer said he would be there **before** one o'clock: he'll be there._"Yes, I know, but I'm a bit in a hurry."

"Well, then, If you're looking for their apartment, just go to the second floor and head to the north. The third door on the right is theirs."

"You have my thanks."

…….

By when Blaze had reached the door, his state was even worse: his leg hurt like a hell, he had to take quick, short breaths and his vision was now a blur, he couldn't see well: shades, shapes, colors, but no more. He heard some noise inside the apartment and realized that someone was inside. _For what I hear, two sentients: a male and a female. Probably humans. They must have just eaten: I can still smell it. I only hope they are not Sith…_

Carth and Wine had returned early: they had only gone to the cantina, where Wine bought a Pazaak deck and some food, and to the Equipment Emporium, where Carth had bought medpacks and grenades. They were already finishing eating and were now chatting a bit.

Suddenly, Wine stopped talking and turned her head to the left, towards the door. She unsheathed her vibroblade."Have you heard that?"

"Nope. What did you hear?"

"I don't know exactly who, but there's someone behind our door." The door beeped to point that it was going to open and Carth also reached for his blasters while Wine mentally cursed herself._Damn! We didn't lock it!_ She swung her vibrosword with her right hand, placed it above her head pointing to the door, the left hand extended. She balanced her weight on her right foot and put her left one forward as she had done in each battle before. It was her favorite stance: The blade was in good position both for attack and defend, and her feet were in the perfect place to give her both a solid balance and a good position to kick and evade the blows; Also, her left hand was in a dominative stance, which usually served to intimidate the enemy and use it to fight. From the corner of her eye, she saw that Carth had taken cover the way Trask had done when they had constructed the barricade before the bridge, both weapons at the ready.

The door opened and they both were prepared for a Sith ambush, Carth behind the table for cover, Wine next to the door, where her sword skills would serve better (still, she wouldn't attack first: the 'wait for the first blow' technique had served her well). In front of them appeared the last vision they were waiting for: a man on his early twenties, brown haired and with the most quantity of scratches and stains of blood Wine had ever seen. It reminded Carth of how was Wine when he carried her out of the escape pod; with some exceptions: he was conscious, some blood was on his eyes (he surely didn't see well by now), his left arm was falling limp, with little movement, and his left leg was resting on an odd angle. Carth noticed, too, that the man was carrying a large metal pipe, probably as a crutch.

By the expression of his face, Wine could tell he was bewildered, surely because he didn't expect them both at the ready for the battle. That expression though, changed sudden and immediately to full fury. A strange medallion that was strapped on his chest started to shine in full red as he did so: a full bright, shiny red.

With the pipe in his right hand, he moved his left leg very quickly backwards so it was both covered from their fire and out of his way. He, then, swung the pipe very fast and, while doing so, he changed his grip on it so the larger part of the pipe was pointing back. His right leg semi-crouched in a defensive, lateral stance that also served to cover his left arm and put the right one more at the ready to battle, which was now in an horizontal position, just above his waist. The pipe that had served him of crutch was now being used both as a shield and a weapon, in a stance that Wine could see was the best one for his condition. All that had happened in less than a second.

His voice, though she could see he wasn't breathing well, was a loud, inhuman, guttural growl. "I'm not going down without a fight, you Sith!" _Sith? Us? What's he talking about?_ She could see Carth had been also taken aback by that.

The unknown man remained in his position waiting for them to attack first, but Carth couldn't believe his ears. "Wait, what did you call us?" The intruder continued quiet, awaiting for the first blow. It was evident that he had decided they were his enemies and that the only thing that mattered was the battle.

Wine decided to interfere: if the Sith were his enemies, then he could surely be their ally. "We're no Sith. Are you a Republic sympathizer?"

When he heard that, he spat blood to her feet."You'll gain nothing with lies, Sith scum!" It was evident that just words wouldn't change his mind. The woman decided to try and disarm him: perhaps being unarmed would open his mind to conversation… She waved her left hand to Carth telling him to not fire, the response was an affirmative nod of understanding.

She led the offensive, seeing all Carth's moves in slow motion, as she had in her every combat. The other one, though, didn't move until she was doing a vertical swing with her vibroblade: he moved as fast as she and blocked the attack just above of his head, his body very close to hers, her vibroblade having been barely three inches away of his right shoulder and both of them started to push against the other's block. _This position would be great for him if his left arm or leg were healthy, but I should be able to win in his current state._ She didn't see it coming: he butt her nose strong and, while she was backing due to the pain, he stabbed her abdomen with the point of his pipe. It didn't cut, but it hurt. As the pain made her crouch, she saw his opponent had changed again the grip on his pipe and was now using the same swing of the change to do a downward attack, directly to her head… She blocked it just in time.

Carth was admiring the ferocity and agility of the battle: now, Wine had tried to kick her opponent off-balance of his healthy foot, but he had just jumped backwards. A wave of intense pain had crossed his face when he had leaned his weight on his broken leg for support, but the battle didn't cease. Both fighters exchanged blows and blocked every attack of the other. This was nearly a never ending battle. _Battle? Nooo, it doesn't seem like a battle: I'd say it's more like a dance: a very synchronized dance. Impressive. They don't do any redundant movement: every swing, every step, every slash, it all contributes to the next blow or block. But, I think I know who has the upper hand: neither of them shows signs of fatigue, but this guy can't even breathe properly: the single fact of fighting so hard will end quickly his stamina, no matter how much he has._

Thought and done, the male duelist didn't resist more, and he knew it: before passing out, he did a desperate move and charged with complete ferocity, a swing directed in diagonal that was supposed to break Wine's collar bone, or anything sent to shield it.

Wine had already predicted this movement: she stepped to the side on the last moment and tripped him up with her foot. The injured body did a complete somersault and he landed with his back to the floor, unconscious. Wine took the metal pipe and examined it. "This pipe's meant to simply conduct water! It's very heavy and unbalanced, how could he fight so well in his current state with that? His state… We should heal him, or he won't see another sunrise."


	3. Chapter 3

_Where… Where am I?_

Blaze had awakened several hours after the fight; but he didn't open his eyes nor move: in all his years being prisoner, he had learned not to let his captors know of his awakening until after he had determined his situation. Faking to be still unconscious, he took a deep breath. _Well, it seems the lungs problem has been resolved. Have they healed me? I think my left arm is also healed… It doesn't hurt… It's not normal: the Sith cause pain, they don't heal their prisoners more than strictly needed for interrogation._

_It seems I'm on some kind of bed, why? Something's touching my face… A wet clothe? I hear something: there are two sentients in the room, speaking Basic._

"How's he doing?" _A Human male voice, I think I remember it from somewhere…_

"Well, he's still unconscious; but, when we used the kolto of the med packs to heal his lungs, most of his scratches started to close and heal as well. I haven't seen anything like that before. His leg's still broken, though…"

"Regeneration? I've heard about some cybernetic implants doing that before, but they are very expensive." _No, I haven't any implant like that…_

"What about the officer?" _I knew it! They are waiting for they officer to interrogate me… Calm down, Blaze, or your fury will betray you. How did Bastila calm down herself? I don't remember… Something about an odd code._

"First of all, we don't know if he's an officer: all the Jedi accompanying Bastila had enough clearance level to know how to contact by DCSM" ìDCSM? Then… They must be the ones I was searching for! Stupid! You have just attacked potential allies! I have to make it up; but, how? … Hold on a sec: maybe I was the one who was the most hostile, but she was who attacked first. We're even, just a simple misunderstanding. Maybe if I behave from now on, they won't mind about our little encounter/i

"Could it be him? I mean, if he were a Jedi and could use the Force, it would explain his regeneration, wouldn't it?"

"Well, perhaps, but this guy isn't wearing Jedi robes, he doesn't carry lightsaber and his attitude back there wasn't precisely very Jedi-like." _Good point. Hey… I do remember that voice: he's that guy on the Spire… Onzi? Onassi? Onasi? Yeah, that's it! Commander Onasi, the grunting man that didn't like his ship being taken by the Jedi as if it were theirs… Can't say I'd blame him. Who's the woman, though?_

"This medallion of his is very strange: when he was fighting, it was bright red and now; it's gray, dark gray."

"A medallion that changes it's own color? And isn't there any mechanism to make it change?"

"No… It's a simple crystal encrusted to a durasteel frame."

"Well, I'd prefer to know who he is and how does he know about contacting in DCSM." Blaze could hear the crack of someone getting up from a chair next to him and footsteps of this someone going towards the source of the man's voice. _The woman, for sure._

"Do you think he's the one who you talked to?" _She's her! Hold on, Blaze. Ask first, behead later… Only if necessary_

"It's already morning. I don't think a Republic officer or a Jedi would arrive that late." _I suppose this is my cue to 'wake up' and answer some questions. Wish there won't be many… I hate interrogations._

Slowly, Blaze opened his eyes and glanced around: he was on one of the two beds of a very old and very dirty apartment. There was a workbench to his right and a circular table to the center of the room. There were three doors: one was the main door, another (probably) leaded to the bathroom and, the third one, judging by the scent of food he could smell, leaded to the kitchen. There were a man and a woman talking next to the table. _Wow! I can see well again!_

Wine was about to say something, but the sight of a man sitting up on the corner of her eye stooped her. She turned to see him well and could tell Carth had done the same.

The unknown visitor was extremely calmer than before: he was just sitting, facing them, as if trying to determinate if they were a threat or not; but he seemed relaxed, waiting for them to ask.

Carth was the first to take advantage of the situation; he started by doing some small talk, to ease the tension. Important questions would come later. "Feeling better?"

The man on the bed nearly laughed to that question."You already know the answer to that. Please, go to the important things first, both of us know there's no need or use for small talks at the moment."

"Alright, as you wish." Wine could see Carth's face tensing up a bit. "Who are you?"

"Presentations… Why not? I'm Blaze, the mercenary hired to protect Bastila. Is it enough, or do you need a complete background check, Commander?"

"Fee?"

"You get into great detail, don't you?" He sighed. "0."

"You work for free?" Carth didn't sound too convinced, and Wine knew why: this was the worst alibi she had ever heard: since when mercenaries did anything without a good pay?

Blaze trailed a hand over his head, in frustration."Ugh, not again… How'll I explain it?" He kept silent for a second. "Well, to put it easy and to save some hours of explanation: I owe her more than one, and my only and first priority right now is to find her and escort her to the nearest Jedi enclave. Is it enough?"

Wine knew Carth wouldn't let his guard down, but he seemed satisfied by their guest's explanations. "Mm. I suppose so. What do you know ab…"Carth was cut by Blaze, who anticipated his next question.

"DCSM: it means Dialing in Controlled Security Mode. Basically, the one who use it covers a T.S. conversation by putting some keywords into an, otherwise normal, random chatter. Only Republic officers or level-two clearance civilians above know how to decipher it. Applying it to this occasion, I was playing the role of a Pazaak card dealer and you were a collector."He paused to take some breath. "Before you ask it: as Bastila's bodyguard, I had access to this knowledge just in case something like this ever occurred. Can we move into more important matters?"

That seemed to bewilder Carth a bit, who obviously thought that that was a very important matter. "Like what?"

"Well, you know my name and my mission and I know yours, presentations are officially done. Now, can we center on the task at hand?"

Now, it was Wine who decided to enter in the conversation. "You came from the Lower City, right?"

The merc didn't respond. Instead, he kept watching her for a second, an expression she couldn't decipher painted on his face. After a moment, he turned again to face Carth. "Yes; but sorry, we can't go there the same way: I managed to convince the guard on the elevator that I needed doctor Zelka's free treatment and it wouldn't harm him; but it took me a while and a beer to do so. There is no way we can sneak down the same way."

Carth now seemed really interested in the info the mercenary could give to them. "Well, what's the situation in Lower Taris?"

"A big, bad, mad gang war. The Black Vulkars seem to be the worst of them: I managed to avoid fights practically all the way showing no interest in the other's business, but this gang seems to be made of berserkers: they attack everyone they find," and, in a nearly inaudible voice, he added: "had to crack some heads to come here."

Wine tried to enter into the conversation again. "Carth says Bastila's escape pod might have crashed on the Lower or Under City, what do you know about that?" Yet again, Blaze stood silent and examined her face. This time, though, his response seemed directed to both soldiers.

"I do know her escape pod is in the Under one: I was following it in the radar when I crashed. I recall it pointed it was somewhere within 3 miles round, horizontally speaking." Carth typed the info on his data pad.

Commander started to talk again, but this time he seemed satisfied enough with the answers given. "Ok, You are all healed but your leg." He wasn't: there was a question left: "Where does that regeneration come from?"

"I'm… Ahh… How did Bastila put that?" The mercenary fell silent for a couple of seconds, trying to remember the exact words. "Yeah, now I remember. I'm Force Sensitive: that is what the Jedi call the ones who haven't had Jedi or dark Jedi training, but can still use the Force."

"So, you can command the Force?"

"Not much. Even a Jedi initiated is better than me. Still, something's something." Blaze's hands trailed over his left leg, and paused over the point where it was broken. He grabbed it strongly and, a fluid movement and a harsh sound later, his face could do nothing to hide the pain he was experiencing. The expression erased from his face as quick as it came and, after trailing his hands over the leg as if massaging the hurt zone, he got up as if nothing had happened. "Where do we start?"

"Are you sure you're alright?", interfered Wine. When Blaze didn't respond, yet again, she decided it was enough. "Hey! Are you deaf or something? Why the hell don't you answer me?"

Blaze seemed a bit taken aback by her yelling, but he recovered early. "Sorry, you look… No… Nothing, I'm sorry, may I know your name?"

Wine silenced another scold. _If you don't know my name, then why did you order Trask to help me, and why did you tell Carth presentations were done, you asshole?_ "Ensign Wine Vin-Kari, nice to meet you." She offered him her hand to shake, but he didn't comply.

"I'll remember that."Blaze slightly bowed his head towards her as he said so. He, then, directed, again to Carth. "It seems you have the highest rank in here. I usually don't accept orders from anybody, but as long as it helps to find Bastila, I'll do an exception. What's the plan?"

"First of all, use only first names: both our last names and grades are surely under Sith's knowledge; and, as there won't be any grade, all of us have the same rank. Understood?"

"Continue." The merc adopted his stoic behavior once again, awaiting for the instructions to come.

"Now, Wine and I were going to go to a nearby cantina to seek information and credits for the mission. Are you coming?"

"Of course."

To this, Wine interjected, yet again."Carth, if we take him with us his leg won't heal properly."

Carth didn't know what to do: Wine was right, but he didn't want that guy to be on his own that much time, he could have been the one to tell the Sith about the Endar Spire…"Well…"

Before anybody could say anything more, their new allie interfered the conversation "I can assure you my leg is perfectly, thanks. I won't delay you."

As the party walked out the apartment, the first thing they saw was the muzzle of a blaster.

A Sith officer, accompanied by two battle droids, was harassing a pair of aliens; Duros, Blaze saw. He knew he probably shouldn't get involved, but when the loud-mouthed officer gunned down one of the Duros in cold blood, Blaze felt a surge of anger flood through him. Looking sideways to his new allies, he decided his next move. "The Sith's mine, you two get the droids; ready?" A simple nod came from the female to his left as she unsheathed her vibrosword. Carth didn't say anything, but his hands were nearby his dual blasters, at the ready.

Blaze stalked forward his prey, using the basic stealth notions he had learned the hard way by trying to escape from his cell. He didn't expect the droids turning around to secure the area: bad mistake.

"Brzzt. Hold on right there, citizen. Sargent 1 might want to talk to you." The droid on the right's talking distracted the attention of the Sith official, who was about to kill the last Duros.

"What the? Humans in the slums?" roared the officer. "They're Republic fugitives! Blast them!"

Blaze rolled forward as the battle droids' fire started. Then, being between the three of his enemies, he tested his newly healed leg by kicking in an horizontal low swirl which tripped all of them. He didn't hesitate: after the kick, and while the so called Sargent 1 was falling, he stared at his prey like seeing a low motion scene while he was rising.

Before his enemy hit the floor (the Sith was still in an horizontal position, three feet above the durasteel floor, facing him), Blaze concentrated his strength on his right arm, tensing his muscles and adapting them to the situation. A direct, lethal punch landed on, and through, the sternum of his target, killing him instantly. Afterwards, the limp body arrived to the wall of the corridor, dead.

Two well placed shots had already destroyed the loudmouth droid to his right and Wine was cleaning her vibrosword off the left droid's oil. Before he could speak, the Duros clasped the hands of each of them.

"_Thank you for saving me, Humans,"_ the blue-skinned alien said in his native language. "Poor Ixil, he should never had talked back to that Sith officer…" Blaze simply nodded.

"It was nothing," Wine said with a gentle smile. "Just take care of the bodies… my friends and I do not wish to be discovered." The Duros nodded and set to work.

"Why'd you do that, Blaze? We could've gone in the other direction." asked Carth as they made their way towards a waiting turbolift.

"One Sith dead more, one fool less in my way." Blaze said nonchalantly and, as they stepped into the turbolift that would take them to Taris' surface, silence descended over the trio.

…….

Half an hour later, and after Blaze had bought a set of old daggers, an old-fashioned thermal inductor (like some sort of blaster, but smaller and with much less firepower) and some small empty capsules at a nearby shop called "The Equipment Emporium", they all entered into a noisy, only-Human cantina.

As they sat down on a table in the main room, Carth continued to show his suspicions about his comrade's story: "… So, tell me, if you don't get paid for your services where did these credits come from?"

"Easy one: the Vulkars that attacked me… Well, let's just say that we checked what's tougher: a durasteel pipe, or a bully's head. After that, they didn't need them anymore."

"If it wasn't because of the current situation, I'd place you under military arrest."

"Why, that doesn't work with me, Carth: I've been in worse cells than the ones your Republic has to offer."

Seeing that this could lead to an argument between the two men, the female soldier decided to change the subject. "Hey, guys, let's split up and search for info."

The other soldier eyed suspiciously to their companion, but decided he had more urgent matters at hand. "Good idea. I'll go to the Pazaak players' room: either they give me info, or money to buy it." Carth took a deck of cards out of his pocket and put it on the table and expertly selected his best cards for the first match.

Blaze knew something about Pazaak himself: luck was a too high factor for his taste. "You know the game?"

"Yes."

"Don't loose too much."

"Don't worry, I know some tricks. What'll you do, Wine?"

"Well… I've seen something about a Dueling Competition in the holoscreen back there. I think I'll take a look at it."

"Yes… Lots of people in Taris watch these duels; maybe someone'll be willing to talk. What about you?" To that, the mercenary looked around: everyone who had any glass in his/her hand was currently in a very advanced state of drunkenness; even those who had their ale nearly intact.

"Hmn… Correct me if I'm wrong: isn't the local ale a bit strong?"

Carth didn't understand the sudden change of subject, but he decided it was best to play along with it, for now. "Yes, it's one of the strongest in the galaxy, why?"

"High percentage of alcohol, perhaps?"

"I suppose so."

"Then, I'll just sit in the bar, order two Tarisian ales and wait for someone to chat. With all the recent events, somebody must be willing to drown , so I'll simply fake I'm eager to chat anything out of normal. Afterwards… I'm also interested to know more about these duels."

"It's all set, then" Wine was pleased to see that they had been able to agree to something: between Carth's seemingly paranoia and Blaze's I'm a big, bad mercenary story, even that was an advance. "Okay, boys, when we're done, we'll regroup here."

The Republic officer was having Lady Luck on his side today: it turned out that Tarisian gamblers had certain difficulties acquiring fine cards: they only had + or - cards, while in his travels he had collected a good number of the best of them: the very useful /- cards. With those, he could either add or subtract their value to his total points at will, making the task to reach 20 points without exceeding the goal the more easy.

Not to say, he had already managed to earn a very considerable amount of credits and some rumors about a very fast and nice ship docked in the planet: the Ebon Hawk.

Carth drew another card from his deck and stared it with an intelligible expression on his face. "Well, Niklos, you really should erase that grin of yours, go home and rethink your strategy from zero: I've got 16 points and I've just drawn a 5. Yet, if I use this little card of here…" Carth casually placed the +5 card on the table and a /-1 card from his hand, reaching his 20 points goal and beating his opponent, who had stopped at 19. "You lose your third match of the morning and 700 credits in a row."

With a soft laugh, Carth reached out and scooped up his winnings. Niklos sulked away, pausing only long enough to demand a rematch in the future.

After he had pocketed his prize, a stern but feminine voice called his attention. "I haven't seen anyone beat that Niklos so easily, gambler. Care to buy me a drink?"

_Money earned, time to get some info._ "Well, of course, miss. May I know your name?"

"I'm Sarna. Junior officer with the Sith occupation force." _Bingo! And here is… The big prize._

Wine parried even another slash and hand sprung backwards, earning some distance from her opponent. When she landed, she recovered her favorite stance, with her vibrosword placed above her head pointing to the blonde duelist in front of her, her left hand extended forward, nearly taunting the woman fighter nicknamed Ice, and her weight balanced on her right foot, while her left one was tiptoeing forward, ready for everything. "Fiiu… You're one hell of a fight."

Ice, also, decided to return to her own stance, as if starting the duel again, from the beginning. Her stance wasn't as fancy as Wine's: she simply semi-crouched her legs and tightened the grip on her longsword with both her hands. Her sword was placed in diagonal, which meant Ice was used to make use of fast and fluid movements, but not too strong; and her stance and style of fighting didn't make good use of all the sword's length. _Provably, that's why she uses a longsword instead of any finer one: she needs it's length to compensate her style… Smart choice._ "So, honey, you're saying you surrender? Already?"

"Don't make me laugh. I'm having a really good time." While saying this, Wine taunted her rival with her left hand, with the intergalactic come here sign.

Ice charged forward and Wine experienced the relieving feeling of seeing her enemy move in slow motion. Ensign Vin-Kari had grown used to fight either in slow motion or not: it seemed as if her skill always decided by itself if it wanted to activate or not. Still, fights were a lot easier if it activated.

Both female duelists stared to exchange blows and blocks, slashes and evasions, jabs, stabs and kicks. All the way, Wine was seeing opportunities to knock her opponent out, but the fierce of the battle, and Ice's skill with the sword, made Wine want to fight a little more, to learn the other duelist's techniques.

Finally, when she saw that her rival had already started to repeat the strategies and her breathing tempo had increased considerably, she decided to end the battle: Ice had unknowingly taught her everything she knew, and while doing so, she had also tired herself up, giving the soldier a very fine present: a good fight, her skills, and the money for winning. Nice. _Ok. Now, to end this, I should anger her: every time she gets angry her skills lessen._ "Can't you do it better? I could dance like this all day." _Ouch! That one has to hurt._ Both fighters separated for a second, to catch their breaths.

Ice's face reddened as blood flowed underneath her skin. "I'll show you what I can do. You're too slow for my rithm."

Wine yawned. "Less talking, more fighting, sweetheart."

When the swirl of blows came, Wine had already predicted her opponent's backlash and every blow that would come as a result. The soldier ducked and rolled to the left, passing the raging fighter. The battle ended when Wine stood behind Ice, with her vibrosword pressed against her opponent's neck. "Give up yet?"

A gasp escaped Ice's lips at the sudden feel of the cold metal pressing against her throat. When had she gone behind her? Nonetheless, it didn't matter right then: she had been beaten and her opponent was waiting for her to admit the truth."I… I give up."

"It's over! The fight is over!" The announcer yelled as the crowd stood up and started to cheer the victorious female soldier. "The Mysterious Stranger wins!"

……

Wine had already collected her winnings from the Hutt who was organizing the duels when she saw one of her companions entering the Dueling Arena hall. It was Blaze.

"Well, how are the duels like, Stranger?"

"Tell me you weren't watching all the way."

"No, not all your matches. I came in time to see you and that woman fighting like hell, though. Have I missed something?"

"Well… Not much. What are you doing here, anyways? Didn't you say…"

"I said that I'd try to learn something from the drunken back on the bar, and then, come here."

"Yeah, of course… Well, what did you learn?"

"Not much, except that there are several Sith looking up for a date in this cantina."

"What?"

"Hey. When it's up to tell who's Sith and who's not, I'm good at it."

"It makes nonsense, why would they want to…"

"I don't know, but I've picked up a conversation between one of them and the bartender: they have ordered a whole barrel of Tarisian ale and said something about a party."

Wine began pacing back and forth, thoughtful. Motion helped her to think. _Let's see… Tarisian ale… Sith party… Normally, soldiers can't afford to pay that quantity of good drink… They must be high-ranked enough to have some decent pay… And, if they are, they also have privileged info… Also, it's a long shot, but if a single of them didn't bother to return his uniform to base… They shouldn't be used to the local ale, so they'll be sleeping like angels in no-time…_ "Hmm. That could work for our advantage. Why haven't you coaxed your way in?"

The merc didn't take the question very well: his face reddened and so did the medallion on his chest. Ensign Vin-Kari started to think that red color on the medallion meant bad news. "Woman, I kill Sith, I don't flirt them up."

"Okay, okay, no need getting angry. I'll try it myself."

Blaze calmed down, looked at his medallion and swears and curses that Wine couldn't pick up escaped his lips. "Do as you must." He waved a hand, dismissing the subject. The soldier knew better than to continue with it, so she quickly dropped it aside.

"What are you gonna do?"

"I kind of like the idea of having a good fight and getting payed for it."

"Don't expect much the first matches: there's a classification: newcomers must fight first against the worst duelists."

"How many fights have you picked up?"

"Er… Three, why?"

"Then I won't fight more than that: no need to fight you again just yet. Later" When both allies were going to separate, the merc added: "And… Try not to drink too much ale, it's really strong."

…….

"Hi there-I haven't seen you around before," Wine nearly dumped her drink down the front of her jacket. Glancing up, she saw a dark haired man leaning up against the bar. "of course they don't give us Sith officers from the military base much time off…"

"You're from the military base?" She pushed her drink aside. _So, Blaze was right. It's show time._ "You don't look like one of the Sith."

He laughed lightly. "I'm off duty right now, so I'm not in uniform. My name is Yun Genda, junior officer first class with the Sith occupation force."

Wine held her hand out for him to shake. "Nice to meet you, Yun. I'm… The Mysterious Stranger." Yun pulled her hand to his lips instead.

"Oh, come on, what about telling me your name?"

"Sorry, this cantina is too public- I get my fee for not having past, history or name…"

"Yeah, I know. I've seen your duels. But, come on, I won't tell a soul."

"Well… You seem like a trustworthy man… Maybe if we were in some other place where I could be sure nobody heard us… I mean, this is pretty serious: if someone picks up my name in this cantina, Ajuur could fire me…"

"_So, Human, are you too interested in dueling? This must be my day! Two new fighters in a row."_ Ajuur was the standard random Hutt: very fat, very slow, and with an excessively overdeveloped ego.

Blaze took what he considered his 'business voice': very mechanical and calculative, it imposed respect. "It depends. How much?"

"_Ho, ho, ho. Ready to business, aren't we? I like this one. You'll get a ten percent of the stakes, but only if you win."_

"Hmm. I need weaponry too…"

"_Well, if you prefer it, I could exchange your winnings for a blaster, or maybe a sword… What do you have in mind?"_

"Do you have any Trandoshan Death Bringers? I could use two of them."

"_Ha! And what make you thing I'd give you two of my best swords, Human?"_

"Tell you what: I'll fight three times today. If I win all three matches, you'll give me both of them and not a single credit- You'll have won a good considerable number of credits from the stakes. If I lose a single match, you keep your swords and your credits." Blaze paused for a second, giving the fat alien in front of him time to think about his offer."You win, either way."

"_Ok, Human, I like that. But you won't be touching the swords at least until you have won a match."_

"I wouldn't expect anything else."

"_First of all, I'll have to check up your thermal ID"_

"What!" Blaze's heart sank. It couldn't be true, but it was: Ajuur was already reading a datapad given by a nearby droid.

"_Oh, don't worry, my droids have already caught it while we were talking- Oh my… This can't be tr… Who are you and who's sent you here!"_ It seemed impossible that the fat and greasy bug-like alien could move that fast: he slapped a button next o him and two laser turrets emerged from nowhere, pointing directly to the merc's heart. Also, he noticed that some people in the hall had casually changed their positions, provably to keep him in their blaster range.

_Damn!_ "Hey, hey, hey! I'm just an unemployed merc looking for some extra credits in your arena."

"_Nonsense, you're a…"_

"Please, I'd ask you to keep my secret. The ones like me are not welcome here- If you tell anyone I couldn't even fight once and you wouldn't win any credits; it's on our best interest that this matter keeps as a secret between the two of us, isn't it?"

The Hutt relaxed again and both turrets disappeared. The disguised bodyguards seemed to be more persistent, though."_Ho, ho, ho. Maybe, maybe not. But it doesn't harm me to keep my mouth shut. Tell you what… Sentient… Do you know any trick? Is there any card in your sleeve when you fight?"_

"Yes, I've got lots of those, why?"

"_Then I know what'll be the best nickname you could wield: The Joker."_

"What! You must be kidding!"

"_Yes, The Joker, it's a very rare Pazaak card that can be used as a /- of any value. It suits you very well."_

"Ajuur, you'll best keep your promise about this thermal ID…"

"_Don't worry, Sentient, the only thing you must do to keep my mouth shut is prove yourself resourceful in the fights. For the first I'll give you an easy shot: you'll face Deadeye Duncan- And just in case it crosses your mind, killing the opponent is totally forbidden. You can use any weapon you want: the energy suppressors will reduce it's damage to a non-killing range; but you can't end your opponent, understood?"_

Blaze readopted his stoic 'business voice' again."Yes."

"_That's good. Go through the gate to your right and enter the arena: the duel is going to start. You'll have only a five minutes rest between the matches: I want three in a row, not less."_

…….

_So, here I am. Stuck in a backwater planet I hadn't planned to land on, Bastila's nowhere to be found, and I'm now fighting for a Hutt who knows it and can finger me at any moment. Can things get worse?_ Blaze (now known as The Joker) was entering the arena when he saw a pitiable gray-haired man hailing the crowd from the center of it. He was clad in a very light and old-fashioned armor and Blaze could see his hands shaking millimeters due to the man's age; the duelist's hands balled into fists as he taunted The Joker, but they didn't close completely. …_And now I'm facing an old arthritic fool… Point taken. Blaze, you've sank the deepest for this month. Should dispatch him quickly… No need to make the old man suffer that much._

The Joker had surely missed something because the crowd fell suddenly silent and Deadeye was now pointing at him with his… _A miner laser? This guy is either fool, broke, or he definitely doesn't want to accidentally hit his opponent: M.Ls can't even hit a bantha from twenty meters._

The Joker simply folded his arms over his chest awaiting his opponent to start the laser rain that would go directly to the wall. It happened as predicted: Duncan was shooting like crazy, but between his nerves and his age, his hand was shaking too much. The zero accuracy of his miner laser didn't help much, either.

_This is boring, have to knock him cold, already._ Blaze unfolded his arms. The medallion on his torso turned a slight red, he stalked forwards his trembling and blindly shooting prey. The last thing Duncan could manage to remember when he finally woke up was a fist coming directly to his face before nothingness surrounded him.

…….

Again, Blaze had entered the arena and was mentally complaining again about his opponent. _A crippled? First, a loser, and now, a crippled… Wine was right about the first matches…_ He looked at his unsheathed Trandoshan Death Bringers. Why would he need to use them on this match? He sheathed them on his back, a smirk on his face. _Maybe I could check the Tarisian ale's pyrotechnic properties… It wouldn't be wise to try it the first time in a crucial battle…_ Blaze searched on his belt with one hand while he was looking straight to his rival's eyes. He unclasped one of the capsules from it at the same time that the announcer yelled them both to start the fight.

Gerlon Two-Fingers drew his blaster and The Joker started running towards him, eventually side-stepping either the left or the right to avoid the blaster bolts that got too close to him. _Well, at least this one tries to put up a fight. His struggle won't be enough, though._

When both duelers where at short range, Gerlon tossed his blaster aside and unsheathed a shortsword as quickly as he could. He tried to stab Blaze's abdomen, but the merc parried to the right and threw his capsule's contents all over Two-Fingers.

The dueler backed from him, disgusted and trying in vain to shake off of himself the unknown liquid, only managing to get more and more of his clothes damped with it.

Satisfied with his work, Blaze drew his thermal inductor (Gerlon didn't know what was he planning, but the sight of some sort of blaster made him start running towards his own, cursing himself for having tossed it). Blaze's shot was directed to his opponent's leg, but the Tarisian ale was, indeed, a very good combustible and poor Gerlon was quickly enveloped with flames. Four automated fire extinguishers saved his live while the announcer was declaring The Joker as the winner of the battle.

"I'm actually surprised you're talking to me at all…" Sarna was pleased. "Most of the people here on Taris can't stand us Sith. It can make it a pretty lonely job."

Carth smiled. _Well, You can't blame them: you've just conquered their planet._ "You're just doing your job, right?" Carth leaned forward, giving Sarna his full attention. "I don't hold that against you."

"You know, it's like everyone on this backwater planet is in a permanent bad mood. Don't they know they have to make the best of things?"

"You've got a pretty positive attitude."

"Exactly!" Sarna knocked on the top of the table with her empty glass. "It's all about attitude. I didn't ask to be assigned to this backwater planet, but I try to make the best of it. It's pretty easy to get depressed on an assignment like this, but we do what we can to keep our spirits up."

"It must be tough, being stationed in a hostile world."_What am I doing? I should blast myself right here. Flirting with an enemy… But she's got to have some info._

"That's true." Sarna nodded. "It's nice to meet someone who understands what I'm going through. It's good to talk about this stuff-it gets pretty lonely up at the military base." Her blue eyes wandered over Carth's steeled torso, she seemed to consider something. "I've got to get going soon… I've got a shift at the base."

"Well, that's a shame. I really was having a much better time than giving Niklos the beating of his live." _Liar! I'm amazed I can still keep up the count of lies I've told since the last five minutes._

"But… Some of us junior officers are having a party tonight to blow off some steam. I'd really like to see you again. Why don't you drop by the party? I'll write down the address on your datapad." Sarna was so eager she nearly tore the datapad from the soldier's hand.

"Sounds good. I'll be there." Carth forced one last smile before collecting his datapad.

"Don't be late. We're starting right after our shifts end. Most of us won't even be going back to the base to lock up our uniforms." _I can't believe it can be so easy! Going to the party previously invited, letting the Sith get drunk and stealing any uniforms present…_ "I look forward to seeing you there, Carth." Sarna strolled off with an air of confidence. _Oh, man! She knows my name! It's on the crew manifest of the Endar Spire, the one she surely has access to… I've got to meet Wine and Blaze and tell them we're in trouble._

Wine had just said Yun her goodbyes and was now resting on the table where the team had decided to regroup. _Wow! With one of those uniforms we could get into the Lower City pretty easy… Where are the boys, now? Let's see…_

She watched a nearby holoscreen and saw Blaze fighting a woman. She was tall and blonde and her air was full of concentration, by her face, she seemed as if she was calculating every movement quiet carefully. By the other way, he seemed to be rather relaxed… Where those on his back Trandoshan Death Bringers? No wonder he seemed so at easy! The mercenary had proved her yesterday he could be a very tough match even poorly armed. with such a fine set of swords… He would surely rule the entire match at his will.

"You've drank all this by yourself?" It was a man's voice. She couldn't place his name… Wine suddenly became aware that she had been too focused in the holoscreen. The black haired woman quickly turned to the source of the voice, only to see her other companion sitting in front of her and counting the glasses.

As soon as she realized what he meant, she felt her cheeks burning. "Oh no, no. They're Yun's, not mine."

"Yun? Hm… I understand…" Wine was glad that he did. "So, you want me to go?"

"What?" What was Carth talking about? _Wait a sec. Those drinks, my behavior absent-minded, calling that Sith by the name… Is he implying that? No._ Her cheeks were burning more furiously red than before. Wine felt as if she was going to die. What kind of easy and unprofessional woman did Carth think she was? "No, no, no. You've got it wrong. I was just trying to get into that party… I mean, there's a Sith party and they aren't going to lock their uniforms. I was only getting myself invited."

"Aah…" _Fine. Now, he'll either think I'm mad, or a spy from the Sith. Earth, swallow me…_ "Yeah, that's what I needed to talk you about."

"What? You knew about it?"

"Eeeh… Yes, I've got invited too."

"So, you agree it's a good idea?"

"Not exactly."

"Why?"

"It's… It's not the place. We've got to return to our apartment right now. I've got bad news… Where's Blaze?"

"Look at the holoscreen." Both did. They saw Blaze holding two swords enveloped with flames. His flamed blades, crossed and tangled, had now become a pair of scythes, ready to snap together; and the neck of his opponent was between them. Both figures were frozen for a while and, then, the announcer yelled The Joker's victory. _The Joker? And here I had complained about my nickname… Ajuur really has to hire someone to make up better names._

Both soldiers walked to the Dueling Arena hall and saw Blaze talking with the Hutt in charge. He, afterwards, turned and saw them. When the three of them were close enough, Carth spoke up. "We've got to go."


	4. Chapter 4

"Please, tell me it's just a joke. A bad, humorless joke."

The three of them had arrived to their apartment and Carth, who was sitting on the table, had already told his bad news. Wine was pacing to and fro, her face white like milk, trying to find a way out of this mess. Blaze had been resting on a wall with his arms crossed over his chest, vaguely listening to his allies. He had yet another dilemma in mind, and his recent experience with that Hutt's reaction had alarmed him about how would his companions take it.

"I'd like to, Wine, but it's true: that Sith woman must've picked it up while I was playing Pazaak. Didn't think about using a false name then…" Carth was now passing a hand over his hair, Wine's expression wasn't so encouraging, either. Blaze reordered his thoughts, remembering what where they talking about. Suddenly, it hit him: he didn't see any problem.

"So, what's wrong?" As soon as the question escaped his lips, the merc regretted it: both soldiers where looking straight to him, looks of puzzlement and disbelief painted on their faces.

"Weren't you hearing, Blaze?" Wine's face reddened in outrage as she spoke these words one by one, emphasizing each of them.

"Yes: a Sith knows his name's Carth. What about that?" Wine's jaw dropped and Carth sighted in a defeated tone.

"Don't you understand, yet? All our names were on the Endar Spire's crew manifest. That file is one of the firsts stolen whenever a ship is boarded and all our computer experts were on the bridge when the Sith arrived. I saw it from my terminal near the escape pods: they couldn't erase it in time."

_Didn't Bastila inform Carth about my orders? Bah, it won't hurt to tell this, I think._ "No, they couldn't erase it… Was your datapad connected to the terminal, by chance?"

Wine kept silent: she didn't know Blaze, yet, but it seemed like he was hiding a card in the sleeve. Something had happened that she hadn't noticed, as if she had been too absentminded. Her superior, though, looked almost as disconcerted as she was; so it was ,provably, something hidden in purpose. "Yes, it was. Why?" She decided to let their ally put them the situation in perspective.

"Have you got a copy of the manifest?"

Carth didn't know where was the merc coming from. He didn't like it."Yes…"

Blaze's face displayed a victory smirk, just as if he had reached the end of the discussion. "Take a look at it."

Carth got up, frustrated, and went to his backpack. He opened it, searched inside and took his datapad. He turned it on and logged in while he was returning to the table. He opened the file and tossed the datapad to the table. Wine leaned in to see better the characters on the little screen."Here you go. See? Here's my name, at the Commanding Officer square." Blaze didn't move. Carth walked to the window and kept watching outside.

She couldn't believe her eyes. Or maybe she was hearing things? Something wasn't right. _Ok, where's the catch? It should be here… The file is the correct one, and the line too… Why's not here?_ "Mundus O'Fridgigan?"

Carth's attention changed instantly to the woman sitting on the table. She had is datapad on her hand and was frantically reading it's lines one time and another. "What?" He went closer to her and watched the screen over her shoulder. It was the crew manifest he had read so many times… Or he thought it was. Some names he knew better than his blasters just weren't anywhere to be found.

"Your name's not here, Carth. Neither mine… Or Blaze's… What's going on here?" Carth grabbed the datapad, but kept it on the same place and started navigating throughout his archives. He opened a backup digital print coded manifest.

"Let me see… You are right. There're some other key officers and Jedi with their names changed too. Why? How?" He realized he was a bit too close to the Ensign and took a step backwards. She didn't seem to have noticed it. Both soldiers looked to the merc, waiting for an explanation.

"Nobody's gonna be looking for someone who doesn't exist. Before leaving the Spire, I infected it's computers with a little autodestructive virus and changed or erased the names of those who had survived so far, including the ones who had already taken their escape pods."

"Bastila's name's still here…"

"Of course it is. The Sith ain't stupid, they knew she was on board. If I had erased her name, they'd find out about my little trap too early."

"Too early?"

"Before we have long left this rock."

"Why didn't you tell us a thing?" Carth was, again, sounding as if he sensed betrayal.

Blaze shrugged. "You didn't ask."

"Is there anything else you haven't told us?"

"Everybody has always something to hide."

"What's it?"

"Sorry, Carth, private business. I won't meddle with yours, and I expect you to do the same." Blaze seemed to just let the matter die.

Carth accepted the truce. "Fair enough, just remember: I won't let my guard down."

"I can respect that. Now, have you got anything to wear for the party, or have you decided to skip it?"

"If the Sith aren't going to know who are we, it's on our best interest not to miss it… We should buy something, I guess."

Wine remembered the place where the merc had previously bought the daggers and that weird blaster. "We could go to the Equipment Emporium, there are lots of things there."

"And… What will you buy? Clothes, or armor? It's not too wise to enter into enemy territory without adequate protection, but entering a party fully armored…"

"You're right… Well, we'll see about that when we're there, let's go."

Wine and Carth took the lead to the shop they had visited that same morning for Blaze to buy some 'supplies'. They were there in no time and immediately started to look for something wearable.

Carth saw how Kebla, the shop's owner and assistant, directed the female Ensign to one of the central shelves and started to show her some of her goods. He had already made his mind on the dilemma their newest ally had offered, so he went directly to a nearby table and chose some smart clothes that were a size bigger than his. Afterwards, he walked to the light armor section and selected a well-plated one, his size. He went to the changing room and, a few seconds later, he smiled to his reflected face on the mirror: he didn't look suspicious, but, yet, he had managed to find a way to blend into the party even wearing a decent plate.

He payed the prize to Kebla's assistant droid and went over to where he had last seen Wine. _No wonder why are there so many homeless on this planet, that's a hold-up! Not many winnings will be left… What the! _Carth's thoughts were cut off sharply at the sight before him. A woman clad in a tight purple armor was trying her outfit, looking at the mirror before her and testing the plate's flexibility. The armor by itself did nothing to hide it's wearer's curves and femininity: a couple of the longest legs in the galaxy were sheathed into what seemed like a second skin, or maybe a body paint, making the musculature of her well trained legs easy to distinguish. That's exactly what happened with her finely rounded rear too, which was followed by a rather slim waist and back which were actually well armored, ending the body paint effect to start a thinly but well armored one. Her arms were also covered with that skin-like purple fabric, showing her well trained muscles as if she was actually wearing a non-sleeve. Shoulder-length straight black hair cascaded down to her shoulders. She turned to face him, he was greeted with the sight of her well-sized chest clad into an amazingly reflecting and firm plate.

Her auburn eyes met his, and he noticed he had just kept staring at her like an idiot. _Damn it! What was I thinking about?_ He needed to say something, anything, but he just didn't know what; so he just smiled and went over to Blaze, at least that guy wouldn't leave him speechless. He found him just as how they had left him: near the entrance.

As he approached the merc, he noticed he wasn't wearing any armor. In fact, he didn't remember seeing the man inside any outfit even similar to an armor. "What about you? There're some good plates over there."

"No, thanks. Armors just slow me down."

"Yeah, they are a bit restrictive at first, but isn't it better to have some protection?"

"Best defense is a good attack."

"But, what if you get shot while you attack?"

"That's what shield generators are made for. Here, take two, my treat."

"Generous, aren't we?"

"Don't be stupid, I need you alive if I want to finish our business here and get out of this rock. By the way, you've made your mind for non-armor, I see?"

"Not exactly." Carth opened his jacket a bit, revealing his new armor.

"A military light plated suit; it'll be enough, I guess. This model is very used by civilians for personal protection, good choice."

Carth frowned at he description the mercenary had given: It seemed like if he had studied every armor's characteristics. "You surely know about those things."

"The best way to penetrate the enemy's defenses, is to know them well."

"Where have you learned that much?"

"Holonet. I can't take being in a ship for too long, so I got my datapad filled with info like that on Coruscant."

"Just armors?"

"Armors, weapons, unarmed combat forms, languages, other species' statistics like strength, agility and stamina… And some files about customs and laws."

"Ok, what do you know about that armor Wine was trying back there? Apart from the obvious, that is."

"The purple one? I don't know of any standard like it. It's got the look of being a mix between Echani intelligent fiber technology and Desh cuirass plating, though. She won't blend in with that, but maybe that's part of her plan: people don't usually suspect from someone who's acting casually."

"So, is it a good protection?"

"If she can keep cool, she'll be fine. If things go wrong, this is an asset she won't regret having."

"Mm either way, I think she could use one of those generators too…"

"Just be sure to make 'em count: they aren't cheap, and I won't be having money to buy more anytime soon."

When Wine returned, Carth could swear he had heard her chuckling. They only exchanged a few words, Carth gave her the shield and the three of them left the shop, towards road #614342975, from where they'd head north to reach the building where the party was being held.

As they walked, they saw a pair of shady-looking individuals accosting an elderly man. The old fellow was sobbing, claiming that he didn't have Davik's money.

"Please," he begged. "Just give me more time. I'll get Davik the money…. I just need more time."

The thugs just laughed. "Davik wants us to make an example of you," one of them said. The old man cowered in terror.

"They're going to kill me! Help! Somebody help!"

Carth glanced at his companions. "I know we're trying to keep a low profile, but are we going to just stand by and do nothing?"

"Killing a couple of a crime lord's thugs won't take us closer to our objective." Blaze's stern face showed very well that he didn't plan on doing anything.

Wine didn't stop to hear the guy's speech: she simply walked over to the thugs, tapping the nearest one on the shoulder. The alien spun around and glared at the woman, who was closely followed by the soldier and the merc. "A witness!" he growled.

"Excuse me," asked Wine politely, "what's happening here?"

Seeing his opportunity to survive, the gray haired elder renewed his pleas for help: "Please, lady, help, they are going to kill me! Please, I beg you!"

_Ok, ok. Point taken: if I want to find Bastila before kath hounds grow wings, I'll have to chop off the heads of some more thugs…_

The alien thugs laughed and reached for their blasters. They were stopped short as two of Blaze's daggers came flying out of his left sleeve, only to get deeply stabbed into his victim's foreheads even before Carth or Wine could draw their weapons.

The old man looked up at his saviors with relief mingled with despair. "You saved me… but now Davik won't stop sending more thugs after me until I'm dead…"

Blaze didn't mind the old man: he simply went over to the corpses, retrieved his daggers, cleansed them over their bodies and put them in place. After finding some ammo and credits into their pockets, he tossed them over the shallow lip of the through-way. It would be a long fall for them.

Carth decided to try to help the elder just a bit further. "Can't we do anything to help you, sir?"

"No, I doubt it. You've already done enough for me. Now it's my problem on where I'll find one hundred credits

"Here," said Wine. She counted out some money and put it into the man's hands.

"You'd give a complete stranger money, just like that?" asked him, his voice barely more than a whispered.

Wine nodded.

"Thank you! Now I can pay off Davik!" You've saved my life!" Clutching Wine's gift, the man ambled off, presumably towards home.

"You gave him one hundred credits? Generous of you," muttered Carth. Wine merely shrugged and said nothing.

Blaze came closer to the pair. "The party's gonna start without you. So, what's the plan?"

……

It was a broom room, just a few doors from where the Sith were having their party. It was small, but enough for them to enter and have an informal briefing.

"Here we are…" Carth turned to face his comrades. "Ok, let's check up the plan one last time."

"Let's see… You enter first. Fifteen minutes later, it's my turn."

"We'll keep our comms open so you, Blaze, will be able to hear everything from a save place." Blaze had already made himself at home and had currently placed his datapad onto a crate and connected to the building's security network.

"I'll write down anything useful they say and will keep all the weapons at hand. If anything goes wrong, I enter and give them my good nights."

"Perfect. Wine, as soon as everybody's drunken and fast asleep, we'll search for any uniforms of our sizes. We'll take one for each." Wine nodded. He could see her muscles were very tensed. _Man, that fiber is paper thin. No matter what Blaze said, I trust it less than a Sith. Just hope the generator will be enough…_

"Nearly forgot. Take this."The merc searched through his pockets and gave the male soldier a syringe with some strange orange liquid in it. It's label had 'Insulin' printed on it.

"Why should I want that?" He doubted the syringe's contents agree with the label's name, but he didn't know anything else about the subject.

"Inject one dose of these spices to those you steal the uniforms from, or pour it into their ales. It will make them sleep it off more time and when they get up, the hangover will be even worse. If you prefer it, with two doses it will seem as if they had died from alcohol intoxication…"

At hearing the word 'death', Wine's attention rose: it didn't sound quite well… "How do you know?"

"Have used this trick once."

"When? Why?"

"You don't want to know."

Carth looked to his watch. _Must get going.._ "Well… I'd better get going. Remember: fifteen minutes."

"Move along, citizen, there's nothing to see here."

"I've been invited."

"Yeah. You and another thousand liars more. This is a restricted area, move." Carth got a glimpse of the party inside: it fas already in full swing by then. About twenty young men and women were present. A trash bin was already full of empty bottles that had contained the local ale. The sound system spat out bass-heavy music heavily layered with electronic instruments, producing several conflicting rhythms and most of the guests were either drinking the ale over some sofas spread throughout the room, chatting at the bar to the left, or dancing at the central part of the apartment.

A feminine voice emerged over the nearest small group chatting at the bar. "Carth? Hey! Come here! The party's great."

"I'd like to, but he won't let me."

"What! Soldier, let my guest in. It's an order."

Sarna got a hold on Carth's arm as soon as he reached her, guiding him to the center of the apartment, "I hope you can dance, gambler."

"Is it a dare?"

Sarna contorted her extremities and swayed her ankles at the music's rithm. "Already guiding the matters to your territory." She guided one arm around his neck and sterned her face, her whole body very close to his. "Ok, I'm in. What's on stake?"

"Hmm… Let me see…" Carth's attention was instantaneously caught by a nearby bottle, full of Tarisian ale. _Just the perfect way to make her sleep with sithies._ He grabbed it, along with two plastic glasses. "What about playing some little game?"

"Blaze, can I give you a piece of advise?"

"You can try." The merc was currently navigating throughout the building's security net.

"It's alright for one to keep things to himself… But you should, at least, change the way you are doing it."

"What's the problem?" He didn't turn.

"You see… I don't know, but the way you talk, the way you refuse to include us in anything but if you need it… Even I am starting to believe you are hiding something important from us, and this something seems to be big enough to keep you away from people."

"It's private business." The datapad showed a map with the distribution of the building's cameras.

"Yeah, you've already said that."

"It's nature won't change, no matter how many times you ask for it." Now, the datapad's image turned into binary code. Blaze frowned: he didn't understand anything. He reseted the menu.

It was driving her insane! Didn't that guy even think about anything but he and his 'mission'? "I know! I know. But, whatever it is, you should trust us a bit more."

"Do you even trust between yourselves?" Wine was taken aback.

"Yes… Well… Actually, Carth doesn't trust me. He says he doesn't trust anyone."

"Is that so? Well, being careful often prevents more than hurts." The datapad showed a warning message. Blaze inserted a disc and the message disappeared.

"He's not careful: he's nearly paranoiac. I had it hard to convince him that the battle up there wasn't my doing. Even so, he's been all the way keeping an eye on me, blasters near his hands, as if I was some sort of Sith spy. What do you say to that?"

"Hmm. Are you sure you didn't do, or say, anything suspicious?" He had, finally, managed to access to the camera he had been trying to; and, after making sure it stopped recording, he finally turned to face her.

"Positive. And, If you keep behaving like that…"

"…He could start watching me instead of the real enemies."

"Exactly." Wine was glad that the stubborn merc had came to her point of view.

"You had this speech planned. What's your advise?"

"First, I've seen your fighting stance: you're used to fight alone, aren't you?"

"True." Blaze adopted a serene and methodical expression; the medallion on his chest didn't glow much, but it's color was gray, with a glimpse of blue.

"Whenever we're fighting, remember your partners: sometimes, they could use a hand."

"Understandable. Second?"

"When you are scheming, or have something planned, let us be part of it: we are a team."

"I don't plan, I do. And, if I don't share my thoughts is because I either think they aren't important or it is best not to let them be known yet."

"Like?"

"Like that I've had the impulse to kill up to thirty-eight assholes since we entered the cantina. Actually, this is something better not said aloud in some places, and it is completely useless."

"And what about the virus?"

"I had thought Carth had been already informed, so the subject was also useless to be talked about."

"That thing you seem to hide. How's it's importance rate?" She was hoping he would have let his guard down. She should have known better than that.

"You don't give up, eh?"

Wine sighed. "You won't tell, will you?"

The merc just grinned. "Haven't planned on doing so."

"Is it dangerous, or useless?" Maybe she could find it out by herself.

"Private business."

"I can make you talk."

"No, you can't."

"Ok, ok. Just think about this: whatever it may be, will it be worse if we find out by ourselves, or if you tell us?"

"You're acting like if I were fearing your reactions."

"That's because if it were a trivial thing you'd have already told it, if only to make me shut up.

"Three minutes for the show."

"How's Carth doing?"

"His date's drunk, he's sober, can't hear any blasters: fine."

"Move along, citizen, there's nothing to see here."

"You sure? Yun told me there would be a good party in here…"

"Yun Genda? So… You claim you've been invited?"

"Well, yes. He asked me to come."

"Wait a sec." The Sith soldier reached to his pocket and touched a button. One of the waiters inside the party came out instantly. "Ask officer Genda if he has invited…" The soldier stared Wine intently, asking for her name. When she didn't answer, he exasperatedly turned towards the waiter and waved him to go."Just ask him if he's invited anybody. If so, then tell him I've got a nameless woman in front of the door." The waiter nodded and disappeared into the room.

"Hey, you made it!" Yun smiled broadly as he walked out to greet her. Hooking an arm about her waist, he led her inside, to a sofa on the right. "Was starting to think you stood me up."

_Will hate myself tomorrow for doing this…_ Batting her eyelashes at him, she purred, "And what makes you think I'd stand up a man in uniform, especially one that invites me to a good party?" _Yuck! Hope I don't get the habit to talk like this… Disgusting._

Yun laughed heartily. "You can certainly pour it on, can't you?" He put an arm around her waist again _can't he put this arm of his around himself?_ and led her about the party. She could tell he was already pleasantly drunk as he told bad jokes and leaned on her a bit as he introduced her to the others. Wine made innocuous conversation and tried to relax. Yun finished his tour and pulled her over to the couch, snaking an arm about her shoulders.

"So, tell me, can I have your name now?"

_Ok, time to use some tricks from the holovideos now… If I'm right, men try to act according to their date's behavior_ Leaning into his ear, she whispered, "Wine Vin-Kari, pleased to meet you." She immediately retreated to a normal sitting position. _Let's give him some trouble to find how the patron, then._

Carth's idea had been working for the time being: they had accorded to take a drink every time the other's moves were better than their's and, so on, he had managed to maintain the upper hand despite Sarna's efforts to intimidate him with her sensuous movements and her groping hands.

Dancing bass music was something he had mastered during the parties he had assisted during both the Academy and, even, his first years in the fleet; and, while Sarna's dancing skills were deteriorated by the high doses of alcohol she was drinking, he managed to follow the rithm and let it's pulses flow through his veins, preserving himself sober.

After almost two hours of dancing, they decided to sit on a nearby empty sofa. Sarna's constant swaying and mumbling made Carth realize the liquor had already started to do some real effect. "What a dancer! Hic! You really don't brag about your skills, do you?" She leaned a bit closer to him. "I'm hic! sure you've made yourself some money playing games and all…"

_Money? Hmpf. Let's redirect the subject to where **I** want it to be…_ "Well… Not really… Especially since newbies stopped showing up."

Sarna took yet another gulp of the Tarisian bottle, it's contents were nearly zero by then. "The quarantine? Aaahhh hic!" She leaned, even closer. "Don't worry about it. I'm hic! Pretty sure it will be over soon enough."

"So…" Carth decided to put an arm around her shoulders. "Why was it put, to begin with?" _Damn! That's too straight. Better to lighten it with a bad joke…_ "I mean, it's not anything like a gizka plague, or so, is it?"

The drunken woman laughed heartily. When she stopped, her voice seemed a bit more sober; this got Carth worried. "Not at all. Just… Well I'm sure you know that we won a pretty wicked battle overhead. Damn Republic managed to get some escape pods down to the planet, though. Mostly to the festering pits of the Lower and Under Cities. That's why we've walled off the place to tourists and off-worlders. It's not safe. If those Republic scum survived, we're more than happy to let them get shot by the gangs or eaten by the rakghouls. I certainly can't envy the parties we send down to salvage the pods, though. Gangs and other scum likely beat them to anything of value." Sarna gulped the last drop of alcohol that her bottle had to give. "Er… How about if you get me some more ale from the bar, handsome?"

"Sure." Carth stood up and started to the bar. _Well, she's already given all the information I needed…_ While he was walking, he saw that most of the assistants were already asleep or too 'emotionally entangled' to notice anything. Wine's head was peeping from a nearby door.

When she saw he was the only seeing her, she let him see a glimpse of what seemed to be the officer's variant for the trooper's uniform, blood red. She gave him a thumbs up from her hidden position and closed the door so Sarna wouldn't see her. _Time to put Blaze's spices to the test…_ He took an open bottle and poured one dose of the so wrongly labeled 'insulin' in it.

……

Later, that night, two full armed and armored men, presumably mercenaries, followed a Sith clad into a Senior Officer red armor. They approached an awning that arced over the wide thorough way like a giant mouth. The woman inside the red armor paused only long enough to give a short nod to the sentry on duty. _A shame we couldn't find any more uniforms, but this will do…_

"You're with one of the patrols heading down to the Lower City, eh?" asked the trooper. Wine nodded again. "Well, good luck," the sentry said. "The gang war down there is getting pretty nasty." He tapped his control panel and the turbolift doors opened. All three of them stepped in. The woman nearly tripped when the lift moved, protesting by the suddenly added three sentient's weight. _Whoa! Thought I hadn't drunk that much!"_

The smell of blood and blaster fire lingered inside the turbolift, hanging in the air like a thick cloud. Outside, the sentry slapped another panel and the turbolift whirred to life. It began the kilometer deep journey into the lower depths of Taris.

"So… What have you found out, Wine?"

"Not much: Yun's main course of thoughts was… Elsewhere."

Blaze seemed to know what was Wine talking about, because he was fast to speak before Carth could ask further. "I may have something."

"What?" It was a two mouthed question.

"Carth picked up the Sith are sending patrols down here…"

"Yes…"

"Sarna said that the Sith would be glad to let the Republics die because of the rakghouls and the gangs…"

"And…" Carth was exasperated: he knew everything Blaze had been talking about; but it wasn't of any hep.

"If they haven't stopped yet is because they haven't found Bastila. If that's it, we may stay a chance."

"How so?" Wine was intrigued.

"By now, the Sith should have been able to find all the escape pods. If they haven't found her is either because she has been able to hide herself, or someone else has got there before the Sith arrived." Both soldiers remained silent for a while. Eventually, Cart spoke up.

"Ok, I see your point. Any advise before we reach the Lower City?"

"The guys dressed in red, blue and gray are the Black Vulkars. If you see one of them, put your hands near your weapons: those seem to be always willing to pick up a fight."

"We're almost there… Put on your helmet, Wine: it will give you some extra protection."

The three of them gave one final check to their weapons as the elevator came to a stop and it's doors opened to reveal them the lower depths of Taris in all their glory- sparking wires, layers of grime on all surfaces, and graffiti in a half-dozen Basic and alien dialects. Trash piled in heaps and plastisteel barrels where transients gathered by the light of a smoky fire. Bodily waste, bad alcohol, and things best unnamed hit them like a fist, causing them to gag until the shock wore off.

"Okay," Carth said. "Let's start by going somewhere we can look for information without getting our asses kicked."

Light barely filtered in - the translucent fountain bottoms from the streets above allowed a bit of hazy sunlight and trickles of chemical-smelling water. Jury-rigged glowrods and gas-filled signs gave off their own faint light, as did the brightly burning barrels of refuse.

"There's a cantina over there," Blaze indicated them to the south-west. "I saw lots of people in different colors in there, it must be some kind of neutral place."

"They won't allow me in," the two males turned abruptly to face Wine. "Not if I look like a Sith."

"You're right…" Carth glanced over and spotted a nearby building; it's doors were wide open. "There."

No sooner had they walked out of sight of the elevator did they find themselves in the middle of a gang battle. Six sentients clad in yellow and white armor were surrounded by lots of aliens in the Vulkar colors. Wine saw every bit of the massacre caused by the bigger group upon the smaller one from inside her expressionless helmet. There was no mercy, there were no prisoners, there was only cruel and brutal death for the poor yellow and white armored combatants. She wanted to vomit. The sensation was stronger than she had ever felt.

Carth had guided them through the shadows, trying to avoid any unnecessary confrontations, but the sudden sickness Wine felt when the leader of the Black Vulkar party personally executed, laughing, the two young members of the opposite side who had thrown their weapons and had pleaded for mercy made her involuntary trip with an empty can, drawing all the attention towards them.

_Damn it!_ Carth drew his dual blasters and went nearer to Wine. She, in turn, unsheathed her swords and placed her back against Carth's. This way, he would take down as many as he could from long range. Wine's swords, in turn, would take care of any thug who could reach them.

_The 'How to be nice' file said something about this…_ Blaze took his swords and readied himself for the battle to come. _Ah, yes, 'ask first, behead later.'_ He moved his left leg very quickly backwards so it was both covered from enemy fire and out of his way. He, then, swung both swords very fast and, while doing so, he changed his grip on his left one so the blade was pointing backwards. "How do you prefer death: swift, or painful?" His right leg semi-crouched in a defensive, lateral stance that also served to cover his left arm and put the right one more at the ready to battle, both were now in an horizontal position, just above his waist. With his left sword behind his back and his right one before him, he could battle in all directions. _Question asked, time to behead._ His medallion glowed in furious red as he started his killing spread.

Wine had never felt like this before. She was fighting against a greater number of enemies, sure, but feeling Carth's back against her own made her feel safe and confident of her chances. The duo moved with the dexterity and coordination that only years of intense training and lots of experience should master. Carth's movements matched hers, and she matched his, like a gear-teeth matches another to make a cock go. Every time an enemy got too near to Carth, he had only to crouch, because Wine's sword would be already coming to finish the foe off.

Blaze's muscles tensed and relaxed, adapting to every situation's changes. Adrenaline flew through his veins like there was no tomorrow. He had just stabbed a green Twi'lek up his throat when a powerful aura caught his attention. It was coming from the female soldier clad in red Sith armor. It was like an untamed beast, but enormous and strong. Most of the time, this beast was like in hibernation, but now, it had awakened and was like a whirlwind, giving her notice of her surroundings and making her adapt to her partner's movements by pure instinct. Two of the supposed corpses at he couple's feet started moving.

_No way._ Blaze threw his Trandoshan Death Bringers to the so called corpses, killing them for good. Pain. Real pain burned through his skin and his flesh, arriving to the bone. He fell to the ground. He didn't mean to, but the impact fas too strong and his knees just gave in. His left hand reached to his right shoulder. Pain. Intense. His hand didn't touch well trained steeled muscles, but a nasty hole, wet in his blood, with nothing else but burned flesh. His affinity to the Force wouldn't be enough to heal that. He would need to use a medpack when he could.

He heard a blaster bolt pass him and impact a nearby object and his aggressor came to his field of view, a hole in the head. _Carth's doing._ He got up. There were only three or four enemies left. They were retreating. He glanced over the corpses. There were, at least, thirty of them. But the main colors he could see… _Huh? Yellow and white? But we have only killed Vulkars… So, they were already tired… And we haven't killed as many as I thought: most of them were playing dead to run away._

The retreating gang members disappeared into the darkness and his companions relaxed from their fighting positions. Wine sheathed her swords and took his. Carth holstered his blasters; he was sweating, but smiling. "Aaaaah!" It was coming from his behind. He turned just in time to see a spiky alien charge upon him, axe at hand. He didn't think: if he had, he wouldn't have done this. His left arm's muscles tensed more than normally and a bone made blade came out from his forearm.

His blow splat the alien in two, ending the threat; but he had done it. He paled at the thought: they knew it. They had seen it. And he knew what was going to happen next. That Hutt had nearly killed him at this knowledge; as had previously done nearly anyone he had met before. That's why he had learned to hide it.

Something touched his temple. It was hot, metallic and cylindrical. Carth's voice sounded of betrayal and disbelief. His words were the three ones he had become used to hear: "What are you?"

* * *

Sorry it's been a long while, but I really couldn't update this sooner. So, do you like it? R&R please!

Many thanks to Revan's Lost Soul and SilverSentinal21.


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